


30 Day Iwaoi Challenge

by iwaois, sportsanime



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 30 Days of Writing, AUs, Angst, Basically just a lot of iwaoi what more could you ever need, Fluff, Humor, Iwaoi writing challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 47,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3716749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwaois/pseuds/iwaois, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sportsanime/pseuds/sportsanime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 Day Iwaoi writing challenge. 30 unrelated one-shots, one for each day, written after a prompt. 30 stories of our favourite Aobajousai nerds, what else could you wish for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Glow in the Dark Undies (Indie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note from indie  
> I'm trash and this is trash (very crappy trash) and I'm a terrible writer and I didn't know what to do with this prompt and I wrote this in a hurry so please excuse this way-worse-than-usual-writing. senpai don't kill me.

“Remind me again why we’re gathered at your house,” Iwaizumi grumbled.  
“Iwa-chan, that attitude won’t do at all!”

Oikawa was annoyingly cheerful.  
He’d called everyone from Seijou over to his house, and his parents had gladly accepted all the boys into their house. In fact, Oikawa’s parents had prepared food, as though they knew what was going to happen.  
“So…” said Matsukawa. “What are we doing?”  
“I called you all over for an emergency sleepover party!” said Oikawa.  
“Oh my god,” muttered Hanamaki. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”  
“Please,” added Matsukawa.  
Oikawa looked genuinely confused. “Why would I be kidding?”  
“What’s the emergency?” said Kindaichi, edging away from Kyoutani, whose glare looked poisonous.  
“I…” Oikawa paused, just for effect. “…lost my underwear.”  
“…”  
“…”  
“Asskawa, if this is a trick, I swear I’ll-“  
“You don’t understand!” wailed Oikawa. “They were special underwear!”  
“Ohhhh,” said Hanamaki. “Is there something you’re hiding from us, Oikawa?”  
“Shut up,” snapped Oikawa, clearly upset at this point. “They were really special.”  
“Alright,” said Kunimi. “So we have to search for our idiot senpai’s underwear, don’t we?”  
Oikawa waved his hands around. “Special underwear!”  
Realisation dawned on Iwaizumi’s face then. “Those?”  
“Which ones?”  
“None of your business,” said Oikawa, looking happy that someone had finally figured out what underwear he was talking about. “Come on, minions! Let us search for underwear!”  
He grabbed Iwa-chan and Kindaichi’s hand and he skipped off, ignoring Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s sarcastic grumbling behind him.  
-  
“Okay, soldiers!”  
“Oikawa, stop with the effing stupid nicknames,” said Hanamaki, flashing a peace sign at the other male.  
“So harsh!” wailed Oikawa, apparently forgetting about the matter at hand. “Makki!”  
“Aren’t we supposed to be looking for underwear, so that we can go home?” asked Matsukawa impatiently.  
“Mattsun, I hope you’re joking about going home,” said Oikawa cheerfully. “No way in hell! Anyway, as I was saying before Makki so rudely interrupted me, let’s split up and look for my underwear.”  
“This is ridicu-“  
“Okay, Iwa-chan, you come with me~” Oikawa beckoned to Iwaizumi, who muttered something under his breath. “Makki and Mattsun, you two are so cute, you need to be together!”  
“I’m going to kill you,” Hanamaki said sweetly. “I’m going to kill you and throw your grave into hell where it burns to ashes.”  
Oikawa gave a nervous laugh. “Okie-dokie! Kunimi-chan, Kindaichi-chan, you two would be cute together too! My underwear is lucky, so I’m sure it’ll work wonders for all your relationship problems!”  
Kindaichi reddened. “Erm, I…”  
Kunimi walked away, next to Hanamaki, and muttered to him, “I’ll help you kill him.”  
“What the hell is with him and relationships?” said Hanamaki incredulously.  
“I’m just trying to help my kouhais with their relationships,” said Oikawa. “Jeez.” Then he beamed at everyone else. “Mad Dog-chan, Watari-chan, Yahaba-chan, you three can be a threesome.”  
“Oikawa,” interrupted Iwaizumi. “You are making me look bad for being your friend.”  
“…”  
“…”  
“Meanie.”  
And so the separate groups departed, each with small frowns on their faces.  
Except for Oikawa. He was smiling like a maniac.

“Oikawa,” said Iwaizumi, as the pair bent down to examine a drawer for Oikawa’s missing underwear.  
“Mhm?” Oikawa glanced at his friend, picking up a thong, and dropping it in disgust only seconds later.  
“The underwear you’re talking about…” Iwaizumi paused, hesitant. “Uhm, is it the one I go-“  
The electricity went out.  
“Oh great,” groaned Oikawa. “How are we supposed to look for-“  
“Trashkawa,” Iwaizumi said, sounding very much like he did when he was about to hit Oikawa. He had just seen something glowing from Oikawa’s pants. “Take your pants off.”  
Oikawa jolted in surprise. “Hunhhhh? Iwa-chan, I had no idea you liked me like that! We don’t have to rush into the sex though, I’m flattered but-“  
“I’m this close away from ripping your heart out,” growled Iwaizumi. “Take your stupid pants off.”  
“I-“ Oikawa frowned, but he took off his trousers, looking both confused and ridiculously happy at once.  
“The underwear you were talking about,” said Iwaizumi. “Is that it?”  
“Oh,” said Oikawa. He scratched the back of his head, looking down at the glowing underwear. “Uh. This makes sense.”  
“Where the hell did you even-“  
“You got them for me, Iwa-chan~” said Oikawa, grinning stupidly at this point. “Yay for Iwa-chan!”  
“Nay for Iwa-chan,” said Iwaizumi in distaste. “I…”  
“Love you, Iwa-chan,” said Oikawa, and he lay down on the floor. “Let’s just lie down here while we wait for the electricity to come on, kayyyyyyy?”  
And Iwaizumi didn’t bother to ask why, because everything with Oikawa was a huge why.  
He lay down next to his trashy friend, staring at the ceiling in the dark, the room lit up only with Oikawa’s glow-in-the-dark alien undies.


	2. Day 2: Traditional Clothing (Nick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notice as Nick tries to fit his other OTPs into Iwaoi. Worship Kinkuni. Aobajousai is treasure. Enjoy Iwaoi in Kimonos though I completely made it not about it. Sigh.

It's been a while since Oikawa was this annoying about something. Perhaps maybe even since that last crap alien movie was airing at theatres.  
Except alien movies aren't /absolute / torture.  
This time, the setter set his mind on a local festival. The kind you visited in kimonos, with lanterns and food and traditional music.  
Iwaizumi was worried, worried he'll give in and then have to suffer /traditional music/. You see, Hajime was more of a rock music person, than those instruments he didn't even understand, and he was /from here/.  
His dream crusher, in a form of a 17 year old model material asshole with a twist, stuffed in a too large too old too /not his/ hoodie and trackpants and with a pleading look in those unbelievably believable milk chocolate eyes, was whining on their couch.  
"But Iwa-chan, please! It'll be fun and kimonos are breezy! You'll see it's great and fun and colorful and beautiful."  
"No. Why do you even wanna go?"  
At that, Oikawa sat up and set a serious look in his usually disgustingly playful eyes.  
"You see, some of our children will be there and we gotta make sure Kyoutani doesn't get too /handy/ again and falls into the lake. And what if someone harasses out sweet baby Kindaichi? I'd never forgive myself!"  
Oikawa had started referring to the rest of their team as "our kids and uncle Matsun" a while ago, and Iwaizumi simply never had nerves or strength to question it.  
"....I guess it won't hurt to go. Just for the team. Next practice match with Nekoma is next week." Hajime grumbled, sighing at how weak he was.  
"Have you told the coach to rent the bus?" It didn't take Oikawa much to shift from Annoying Best Friend to his Captain of a Volleyball Team mode.  
"Watari did. He said he pulled some strings and we got it for cheap." Happy the topic was changed, he went down to join his pain in the ass on the couch, to laze trough the afternoon and smell his own shampoo on that old hoodie.

***

What Tooru had in mind for the next morning, Iwaizumi didn't expect.  
He was just having breakfast before school, up first as always, when Oikawa stormed into the kitchen wearing nothing but boxers with tiny UFOs on them (the saddest part was that they looked incredibly dorky yet incredibly charming on him) and waving his arms like a madman.  
"Iwa-chan! My kimono is too small for me! Am I fat???"  
"Yes."  
"Mean! We'll go get me a new one after school."  
Grumble.  
"Why do /I/ have to go? I didn't outgrow my kimono by eating too many Mars bars even though I'm fully aware they have nothing to do with space."  
"........At least my face doesn't scare all the girls away."  
"I'LL KILL YOU!"  
Oikawa, of course, started running, still only in boxers, parkouring every chair, table and armchair he could find as Iwaizumi chased him, completely unconvinced by the "Don't worry, Iwa-chan, I think your face is beautiful!"s and the "I'm too young and attractive to die!"s.  
This is how most of their mornings looked like anyway.

***

The bell signalizing the beginning of class rang over twenty five minutes ago, and following the teacher closely, Iwaizumi actually took interest in the lesson. That's when a little paper ball fell onto his desk from behind; a note. He turned around, and in the desk behind him a sparkly white,.sneaky, knowing smile awaited him.  
/You just tossed a note, Oikawa, not an atomic bomb, stop getting overly excited/.  
Hajime unrolled the paper to read the content, which caused him to roll his eyes.

'Iwa-chan has such a pervy look when he's paying attention ;P '

Iwaizumi scratched his back with his middle finger.

***

After practice they caught a train and drove off to the mall. Currently, Oikawa was in the dressing room, trying on what must've been his fiftieth kimono, while the other waited outside with their school bags. It was Friday - today was the festival. That's why Oikawa insisted on getting the kimono right away. If he hurries, they'll have enough time to get to their apartment and change quickly, if they eat something along the way.  
When he came out, Hajime had to restrain his jaw from extending to the floor. The kimono was long, teal green with black bits, and honestly, it fit Tooru perfectly. Nobody should look that good in a dress, even if it was traditional attire.  
"I really like this one. Can we go now?"  
"Do you really?"  
"Yes, you'll sweep them all off their feet."  
"Guess thirty seventh the lucky, eh? " With a real smile Iwaizumi couldn't quite help but return, he spun in a few circles.  
"Let's go."  
As Iwaizumi went to pay, Oikawa's eyes stayed on his back a second longer than necessary before he went back into the changing room to get back into his school uniform.  
/You're the only one I want to sweep off their feet./

***

"AREA51, this is ET47 speaking", the walkie talkie muffled as sound came out of it. "AREA51, do you copy? Is Code Cheesesteak allowed? AREA51, answer me, do you copy?"  
A few seconds of silence from the device followed. Then a:  
"Iwa-chan, you promised!"  
After an eyeroll, Iwaizumi pressed the little button on his walkie and spoke into it, voice full of annoyance.  
"Yeah, Assikawa, I'm at position. Why are you worrying, they're just getting drinks."  
"This is ET47! Red alert, you used my name! Quickly dispose of your communication device in the nearby garbage disposal to your right, we might get caught!"  
"They're 15, Oikawa, not North Korean spies."  
The situation wasn't critical at all, they were just two losers with walkie talkies hiding in the bushes in kimonos, stalking their teammates who seemed to be on a date.  
Turns out not all of their sons were going.  
And there wasn't a chance someone picked on Kindaichi.  
Iwaizumi's lips curled upwards against his will as he flashbacked to when they just got to the park and spot them; Kindaichi and Kunimi, in kimonos and holding hands.  
They didn't look like they were talking about volleyball.  
Oikawa wanted to ditch the whole cover thing to run up to them and hug them and kiss their faces and congratulate like a good parent figure, but Hajime had to physically restrain him. He didn't want their first years to end the night mentally scarred.  
When the idiotic walkie talkie alien pseudonym hiding in the bushes happened, Iwaizumi couldn't remember. He pressed the button again.  
"How about we both dispose of them, order takeout and go home to rot on our couch."  
"This is ET47. That sounds lovely. Alien movies? Over."  
"God knows we own the largest collection in Japan. Are you tired?"  
"Not tired. Over."  
Tooru ended up falling asleep on him on the train. 

***

As for the Kimono's fate, Oikawa sold it later, to some culture freak in Tokyo, Madmarima Shintaro or something, Iwaizumi remembered. It was apparently too green for him. He was glad; it only took you the closet space.  
And he preferred Oikawa in his own clothes anyway, even when he takes it without permission, which only happens roughly 3 times.  
A day.  
Kindaichi and Kunimi proclaimed to be going out next week.  
They officially saw all of their alien movies three times.  
And haven't went to another culture festival for /years/.


	3. Day 3: Stop Calling Me Iwa-chan (Indie)

“Mattsun~!”  
“Oh god,” muttered Matsukawa, ducking behind a bookshelf. “Here he comes.”  
“I saw you already,” said Oikawa, huffily moving to join the other male behind the shelf. “I needed to ask you something!”  
“You asked me twice already,” pointed out Mattsun. “I know what you’re gonna say. Go bug Kindaichi, why don’t you?”  
“Now, now,” chided Oikawa. “It’s not nice to annoy your kouhais! I’d never bug Kindaichi! How mean of you!”  
Matsukawa snorted. “You bug him without trying, you dumbass.”  
“Hey, only Iwa-chan can call me that,” muttered Oikawa.  
“Stop calling me Iwa-chan.”  
Oikawa whirled around. “Iwa - I’m - Iwa-chan! Where did you come from?”  
“I need to tell something,” said Iwaizumi. His face was creased with confusion and worry. “Come, Oikawa.”  
Oikawa’s eyes widened as Iwaizumi dragged him along, but he let himself be taken through corridors and long winding hallways, to a dark, dark place. There, he muttered, “Oikawa, I’m sacrificing you for the good of humanity.”  
Iwa-chan grew wings, red and black and terrible. Then he picked Oikawa up by the collar.   
“Iwa-chan! What are you doing!”  
“Stop calling me that.” Then a pause. “I love you. Oikawa."  
Before Oikawa could respond, he felt himself falling, falling down into nothingness.  
-  
“Tooru, are you listening?”  
“AnOOOOOO? Oh, Ayate, sorry! I was simply thinking of how beautiful you are!” Oikawa reached out and tucked a strand of his date’s hair behind her ear, to which she immediately beamed.  
“Tooru,” said the girl. “I need to tell you something.”  
“Eh?” Oikawa said, his brow creasing. “What is it, Ayate-chan?”  
“I…” The girl took a deep breath and bowed her head. “I’m sorry. I’ve fallen in love with someone else.”  
“Huh?” Oikawa’s eyes widened; he took a deep breath. “Oh. That’s quite the coincidence. So have I.”  
“Really?” The girl laughed a little. “But Tooru-kun, I’d like to tell you about him, if you wouldn’t mind.”  
“I’m all ears, Ayate-chan!” said Oikawa cheerfully.   
“Well,” said Ayate. “He’s really sweet to me. Although, he sometimes treats me like I need to get my shit together.” Ayate frowned and tapped her chin.  
“That’s kind of like the person I like and me,” said Oikawa, sipping his coffee.   
“Mhm! Anyway, he tells me stories about his friend, but then he tells me that I mean just as much to him as his friend does.”  
“That’s lucky,” Oikawa said encouragingly. He waved for a waitress to bring the bill. “Tell me more! I’m a master of matchmaking. I got Kindaichi-chan and Kunimi-chan together.”  
“Two guys?” Ayate giggled. “That’s kinda cute.”  
“So are you,” said Oikawa, a cross between a smile and a frown on his face. “How old is this guy?”  
“Eighteen, like you, Tooru. In fact, I have a surprise for you!”  
“Huh? Surprise?”  
“He’s your best friend! Iwa-chan!”  
“Wh-“ Oikawa’s mouth opened, and he stared in shock at Ayate. “I’m-“  
“Now you can stop trying to set him up,” said Ayate, laughing, and Oikawa suddenly felt a flash of hatred towards her.   
“That’s great, Ayate-chan,” said Oikawa with zero enthusiasm.   
“Yeah, I’d like it if you told me more about him sometime. I need to prepare a Valentine’s day gift! I need to know his favourite colour, his favourite number, his favourite food, and his favourite animal. Has anyone ever had a crush on him before? What kind of clothes does he generally wea-“  
“Iwa-chan’s favourite colour,” muttered Oikawa, his mood dropping by the second. “Is obviously blue and white. Our team colours.”  
Ayate studied Oikawa’s face. “Are you all right, Tooru?”  
“His favourite number,” said Oikawa. “That’s fourteen.” His face darkened. “You really should’ve known that.”  
“Tooru-kun?”  
“Agedashi tofu is his favourite food! You should’ve known that, at least, Ayate-chan!” At this point, Oikawa’s voice was so edgy that Ayate couldn’t help it. She lay a hand on his arm.   
He shook her off, and stood up. “His favourite animal is probably bugs. Or me.”  
“You’re not an animal, Tooru-ch-“  
“Nah, I am.” Oikawa smiled grimly at the waitress as she put the bill down. He threw some money down.   
“Keep the change,” he told the waitress. Then he glanced at Ayate-chan, who’s eyes were lost. She had no idea what was going on; understandable.  
Mhm! Anyway, he tells me stories about his friend, but then he tells me that I mean just as much to him as his friend does.  
Oikawa clenched his teeth and walked away from the girl.  
“Iwa-channnnnnn?” Oikawa knocked on Iwaizumi’s door, his brow creased. Hajime’s parents had let him in with only a “hello, Tooru!” They were used to him, after all; he was part of the family to them, wasn’t he?”  
He didn’t want to be Iwaizumi’s family.  
“Asskawa.” Iwaizumi sounded weary. “What do you want?”  
“Can’t a guy visit his friend once in a while? Meanie.” Oikawa barged in, and took a seat beside Iwaizumi on his bed.  
“Iwa-chan-“  
“Stop calling me that.”  
“HUH?” Oikawa’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, Iwa-cha-“  
“I’m serious,” said Iwaizumi. “We’re not kids anymore, Oikawa.”  
“You called me Oikawa,” Oikawa said.  
“Yeah.”  
He bit his lip so hard that it started to bleed.  
“So, why are you here?”  
“My, my, so hormonal, Iwa-chan. Could there be something you’re hiding?”  
Iwaizumi breathed loudly. “Stop calling me that!”  
“Why? Does your girlfriend call you that…Iwaizumi?”  
Iwaizumi stopped. “Th-that’s not right. Not Iwaizumi, Oikawa. That just sounds weird.”  
“Would you prefer Hajime?” said Oikawa silkily. “Hajime.”  
“Jesus Christ,” muttered Iwaizumi.  
“You’re really not acting like yourself today, Hajime,” said Oikawa. “Did you know that your girlfriend doesn’t even know your favourite food?”  
“I’m-she never asked me. And not Hajime.”  
“Zumi Zumi-chan.”  
Iwaizumi sat there in silence, and that was when Oikawa began to get seriously concerned. In a normal case scenario, this would be the point where Iwaizumi would say “I’m going to kill you!” (Silly Iwa-chan! He’d never kill his best friend!) but right now, Iwaizumi seemed not to care.  
“Hajime Zum Zum,” said Oikawa in a sing-song voice.  
And then he remembered his daydream, the one where Iwaizumi had yelled at him not to call him Iwa-chan. It seemed to be the same case right here, except Iwa-chan probably wouldn’t sacrifice Oikawa and turn into some kind of devil dude.  
I love you. Oikawa.  
Oikawa shook his head violently, and then he glanced at Iwaizumi again.  
“Zumi Zumi-chan?” said Oikawa in a tiny voice.  
“Don’t call me that either,” said Iwaizumi.  
“Then what do you expect me to call you? What did I do?” Oikawa’s voice was panicked at this point, rising slowly.   
“You didn’t do anything, Oikawa.”  
“What the hell…” muttered Oikawa. “Iwa-chan.”  
“Don’t call me that!"  
Oikawa’s fists clenched, and he grabbed Iwaizumi’s wrists, pressed his lips to the spiker’s.  
It was a fierce kiss, and it felt good. Oikawa didn’t even want to know where Iwaizumi developed his kissing skills.  
It felt good.  
And it felt wrong, wrong, wrong, like something was off.   
Well, of course. Iwa-chan has a girlfriend.  
“Oikawa,” said Iwaizumi.  
“Iwa-chan,” muttered Oikawa.  
“Don’t call me that!”  
“Why? Is it because it’s your girlfriend’s nickname for you?”  
“No, you idiot! It’s because—god, yes, that’s why. And it just sounds…less childish, and less annoying coming from her.” Iwaizumi stood up, prepared to leave the room.  
Oikawa stared at Iwaizumi with clenched fists, wide eyes, and his face was broken.  
He mustered up a smile, the kind of smile he usually reserved for people he didn’t like.   
“I can’t believe you just said that, Iwa-chan.”  
“Don’t call me Iwa-chan, Oika-“  
“IWAIZUMI!”  
In the end, Oikawa was the one to storm out, his head low.   
“Iwa-chan,” he muttered as he waved to Iwaizumi’s parents, and left the house. “Iwa-chan.”  
Iwaizumi’s words rang in his ears. Don’t call me Iwa-chan. It sounds childish and annoying coming from you.  
Iwa-chan would never say something like that.  
Oikawa looked up at the sky, and it was raining. Ayate and Iwaizumi’s faces flashed through his head. He could imagine them now. Iwaizumi, getting married to Ayate. They were so perfect; Ayate was really what Iwaizumi needed.  
She could call him Iwa-chan all she liked.  
“Iwaizumi,” muttered Oikawa, and the rain disguised his tears.  
Maybe Iwaizumi would be himself tomorrow.  
Love changed people, after all.


	4. Day 4: Clothes Swap (Nick)

Monday

It's a well-known fact that Aobajousai doesn't have practice on Mondays, to rest. On Mondays, Oikawa has his volleyball children group, and becomes a sensei. Of sorts. He's actually more of a kid than they are. So there he was, that day, just explaining to a little girl how to improve her spike while she was too busy playing with his hair, when something that has only happened once happened again.  
It wasn't an unpleasant surprise to see Iwaizumi walk into the gym, looking incredibly tall and superior among all the kids, but what worried Tooru was the look on his face, a one he didn't see often.  
Worry.  
"Aika, go play with Takeru, he'll explain it to you. I'll be right back."  
She smiled, nodded at him and, after giving his curls one last squeeze, ran off.  
Oikawa sat onto the bench, and his ace joined him soon after. They just sat there in silence for a minute, Iwaizumi needed to compose his thoughts.  
"Who?" Tooru asked, knowing the answer.  
"Shiratorizawa."  
"When?"  
"This Saturday."  
Iwa-chan's head was in his hands, a practice match was the last thing they needed right now. Their crushing defeat was still all too fresh, the players were not ready for another raging battle, and Kyoutani was running wild, hurt and off the leash from sorrow.  
Karasuno has indeed left some scars.  
"We'll be okay, Iwa-chan", he lied, like a good captain should.  
"I know. We're a strong team with a strong morale", Iwaizumi lied right back, perhaps too afraid to face the truth.  
Seeing him like that hurt Oikawa, so he faked a smile and pat his best friend on the back.  
"We'll win, you know, Iwa-chan. This week we'll work harder than any team has ever worked before and we'll put Ushiwaka-chan back on the ground where he belongs." That was a nice idea. Iwaizumi flipped his phone open and dialed Kindaichi, giving the phone to Oikawa once he did so.  
"Hello?"  
"Kindaichi, hi!! We have /great/ news! Come by the kids volleyball club, yes? And bring everyone you can find! We might as well toss up a few balls in order to celebrate and show the younglings how it's done!"  
And so it began.

Tuesday

Squeaking of the floor and voices calling for tosses were indeed one of Oikawa's favourite sounds. The practice was intense from the very start; he and Yahaba worked full-on from the very start, sending up tosses while Hanamaki and Matsukawa make sure everyone got a share of practicing recieves and blocks too. Watari was sick, and that was a major problem. It's impossible to even imagine winning without their libero. They'll try, though. They had to.

Wednesday

"How are you feeling?"  
"A bit better", the short, sick male mumbled from his bed. "But did you /all/ have to come?"  
Kyoutani had insisted that they visited their sick player the day after, which surprised everyone a bit. So, there they were, in a little room, the entire team. Iwaizumi and Kindaichi stayed at the very door, the room was packed, and they weren't the emotional types. Kunimi just stared out the window. Oikawa was sitting on his bed, bouncing up and down ocassionally and offending his house in the lovliest ways possible.  
"Of course we did, idiot", Matsukawa spoke, "we're a team."

Thursday

"Iwa-chan, I'm beatttttttttt", Oikawa whined, falling onto the couch, still in his training clothes. Iwaizumi just walked in trough their door, carrying /both/ of the bags (he lost a bet, and Oikawa bought him ice cream as a sign of good will) and grumbling all along. The week was intense; everyone was practicing as hard as they could, Shiratorizawa was no joke. Although, with Oikawa's inspirational speeches ("We'll surely win! We've improved and we're still improving! I'm counting on you! Iwa-chan, stop looking at me like that!") hosted daily, the morale wasn't too bad either. Tooru wasn't the kind of captain with big words and poetic speeches, his tactic lied more in relieving his team of stress and making them laugh before a match. Thanks to him, the Seijous knew the most important rule; there's no losing in volleyball. You either win or you learn something. They were thankful for that, even though they still wanted to kill him on a daily basis.  
"I'll make you some tea, then. Are you overworking again? If your knee fails for college, I'm throwing you off of the balcony." Iwaizumi walked trough the living room door, dropping the bags aside and sliding to the kitchen. Their apartment was small, but it was on the 8th floor. Nasty fall.  
"So mean!"

Friday

"Hurry up already!"  
"I can't go when my hair's like this!"  
"Nekoma is coming today!"  
"Who arranges /two/ practice matches in /two/ days??"  
"Assikawa, they offered to help prepare for Ushiwaka, show more respect! And get out of the bathroom!***"  
"Does Iwa-chan need to use the loo?"  
A loud thump was heard as something heavy hit the bathroom door, most likely a shoe, and then snickering from the inside. Moron. A moment later, a tall curly frame slid out of the bathroom and threw his schoolbag over his shoulder and the ace stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door.  
"When Iwa-chan has to go, Iwa-chan has to go..", Oikawa sighed and leaned against the front door; waiting so they can go to school together.

***

When school finished, Nekoma was already there. Although Aobajousai has never played the Tokyo cats in an official game, since neither usually passed to the nationals, they kept friendly relationships and sometimes had practice games. The coach said that it's best to be on friendly terms with as many teams as possible, to call if in need. Nekoma was personally Oikawa's favourite, although he sometimes got angry 2am calls from Kuroo saying to stop texting Kenma trough the whole night again when Kenma was clearly trying to sleep. Or play games. Just not text Oikawa. Also Kyoutani had this weird BFF relationship with Lev, where they sat on walls and chatted about whiny liberos or backup setters. It was lovely. Also Watari recovered today, much to everyone's relief. He was welcomed with cheers and flowers and praises and pats on the back. Good team, dorky team. Yaku-san looked relieved too, playing a team without a libero would be too easy.  
Today Nekoma stood in front of the gym, red and intimidating as ever, but ready to show a few moves. They didn't have a personal grudge against Shiratorizawa, but they heard about their shit ace.  
When Oikawa shook Kuroo's hand at the start of the match, their matching cheesy grins were only half faked.

Saturday

The day has finally come, and the tension was universal. Kindaichi and Kunimi were leaning on the bus, awaiting for their captain and ace to come already; they were running a bit late. Once finally in the bus, everyone was quiet as they drove. Everyone was quiet, except Watari, who was asleep and mumbling nonsense about chocolate shakes and some guy named Bokuto who Kuroo always talked about but never introduced.  
Shiratorizawa wasn't even nice enough to wait outside the gym for them, no, they were already in position for the game.  
Once Iwaizumi took his white and blue jacket off, what came in sight was a surprise for everyone; a big, flashy, blue number 1. Blinking in surprise, he turned to Oikawa, who in return had a big number 4 on his chest. They opened their mouths, then closed them again, then opened once more and started arguing about the wash and the dryer and how much of an idiot the other is. Kyoutani and Yahaba looked at each other funny before they burst into laughter, they could count on their parents - I mean third years - to pull something like this. The tension broke in an instant as they, in the heat of an argument, started taking their shirts off and shoving them into the other's chest.  
Once in their regular jerseys, they started the game.  
Aobajousai lost, of course, 2-1, but their morales weren't crushed. And that was what mattered the most, honestly. They talked and sang and laughed the entire bus ride home, like a team should. They'll be strong enough to beat the eagles someday, without doubt, but right now they have this, and this is enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah the entire thing isn't even based on clothes swap and i'm sorry it's shittier than usual but i have anime to catch up to and plans and weekend and yeah don't shoot me please


	5. Day 5: Kiss Where It Hurts (Indie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize about the disease thing, I didnt have time to research as I did this at the last minute  
> Hope you cry because I sure did what the hell is with me and angst  
> And maybe possible trigger warning

“Are you okay?”  
His eyes flash, and Iwaizumi expects the typical answer, “I’m fine, Iwa-chan~” and yet it doesn’t come.  
Instead comes a huge smile. It looks as though someone stretched it across Oikawa Tooru’s face, and it’s so ugly and fake.  
“Don’t smile like that, dumbass,” says Iwaizumi, “When you’re clearly not okay.”  
The tears don’t come; they never come, but Oikawa’s voice is so strained as he says, “You’re right. I’m really not okay, Iwa-chan.”  
It’s not tragic; Oikawa has never been tragic. It’s more like something out of a horror movie, something like finding out that your best friend is a murderer.  
(Except, Oikawa is not a murderer. It’s more like he’s slowly being murdered; by stress, by anger, by hatred.)  
Iwaizumi can’t do anything except for stare helplessly, his knees huddled to his chest. He knows exactly what would cheer Oikawa up, except Oikawa will never admit that he needs help.  
And so he sits, side by side with Oikawa, relishing his warmth.  
-  
They are at the hospital again. Oikawa had sent Iwaizumi several texts, only minutes ago, saying “Iwa-chan, I can’t move, help me, //help me//,” and Iwaizumi had rushed to his aid. He was lying on the floor in the gym, his face scrunched with pain, his knee swollen from overwork.  
Iwaizumi sits by his bed, holding his hand, not saying anything. But that’s okay. The nurses say enough for both of them. They talk about how battered up Oikawa gets, they say he’s a survivor of war.  
He is not so much of a survivor, really.  
Not mentally.  
The night goes on. It changes consistently. Oikawa whispers things weakly, things like “Don’t leave me, Iwa-chan. I don’t have anything to hold on to if it’s not you.”  
And Iwaizumi wants to slap him for being /so cheesy/, but when he reaches out a hand, he’s yelled at by a nurse: “Iwaizumi-san, he is wounded there!”  
Sure enough, Oikawa’s head is swollen, and Hajime doesn’t know how it happened.  
And so he settles for clenching Oikawa’s hand tightly. It seems like every part of Oikawa has been damaged lately, not only his knee and not only his heart.  
Still, Iwaizumi stays by Oikawa’s side.  
And then the young doctor pokes his head in, and says, “I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave, Iwaizumi Hajime-san. Closing hours.”  
Iwaizumi’s never been one to disobey his senpai, but he can’t leave Oikawa now.  
“I’ll be fine, Iwa-chan,” says Oikawa in that fake cheery voice of his, and Iwaizumi just wants to slap it out of him.  
“Don’t /act like you’re okay/,” hisses Iwaizumi. “Dumbass. Where does it hurt the most?”  
“Huh?” Oikawa blinks, his eyes wide. “Well, I’m mostly numb, so it doesn’t hurt that much. Don’t worry about me.” He tries to shift in bed, using his hand as a stand to hold him up, and winces.  
“Liar,” says Iwaizumi, blunt as always. “How did you manage to hurt your hand?”  
“It’s just my palm, Iwa-chan,” protests Oikawa. “I think I trod on it too many times. When I was stretching.” He holds out his hand, and the doctor coughs loudly in the background.  
Iwaizumi falls to his knees, takes Oikawa’s hand, and presses his lips to it.  
Oikawa stares at him, before a small smile appears on his face. “Iwa-chan, that was like a tragic romance show! You did it perfectly! That was really awesome, Iwa-chan, I didn’t know you had it in you to be romantic~”  
Iwaizumi looks away. “Shut /up,/ dumbass,” he mutters, picking up his jacket and heading for the door. The doctor coughs, and it sounds suspiciously like he’s trying to say “finally.”  
Oikawa just sits there, at a loss for what to say, but he doesn’t have to say anything. Iwaizumi turns towards him, and says, “I’ll be back.”  
He nods once. “Bring me KuroBasu manga so I can angst over how there are too many geniuses.”  
“You’re so stupid.” Then Iwaizumi disappears and the nurses immediately decide to drape themselves all over Oikawa, and so he flashes them smiles, fake smiles.  
-  
The next day, Iwaizumi wakes up and doesn’t bother doing anything. He gets in his car and drives to the hospital, in his pyjamas.  
Today, Oikawa is plugged to some kind of machine. It’s to help his breathing, apparently.  
“His breathing is unsteady,” Iwaizumi hears one of the nurses muttering. “I hope he’ll be okay, you don’t get such a lovely person so often.”  
Today, Oikawa chewing through his lip, sits up the second Iwaizumi walked in. “Iwa-chan,” he says teasingly, a hopeful undertone in his voice. “Are you gonna kiss me better today too?”  
Iwaizumi give a small nod, shocking Oikawa.  
The nurses all glare at Iwaizumi. One of them steps up and says, “Be careful with Tooru-kun, his condition is unstable.”  
Iwaizumi sees Oikawa's face crumble when he hears that, but it’s gone a split second later.  
(And perhaps it was only an illusion, as so many things with Oikawa seem to be.)  
Today, Iwaizumi talks. He tells Oikawa about how the day has been (fucking horrible), and how much he misses the other male at home (a FUCKING lot), and the amount of work that he receives now that he’s continuing college (too much for his brain to process.)  
Oikawa likes listening to his voice - “It’s sexy, Iwa-chan!” “I’ll hit you!”, and so he talks, and Oikawa tries to lean forward as he listens intently, to distract himself from reality.  
He loses himself in the steady rhythm of Iwaizumi’s voice. It’s beautiful; honestly, it is. Iwaizumi is like an angel, sweet and lovely and visibly flawless, except everyone has flaws, because flaws are different in each person’s eye.  
Oikawa has far too many flaws.  
-  
“Oikawa,” says Iwaizumi. “Asskawa. It’s…time to leave.” He frowns, his eyebrows creasing in the adorable, //adorable// way Oikawa used to love. And then the same question as yesterday - “where does it hurt most?”  
Oikawa actually smiles-it's not a true smile, but it's not quite fake-and he says, "My throat, Iwa-chan."  
"The inside?" Iwaizumi lightly slaps his friend. "I'm not sticking my tongue down your throat, thanks. Lie down."  
The nurses all raise their eyebrows as Oikawa lies down and closes his eyes.  
Iwaizumi kisses his neck, and it's a small sweet kiss, like yesterday.  
"All better," he says.  
"All better," Oikawa echoes, and he sounds like he truly believes it, like a small kiss can solve anything.  
Oh, but maybe it can.  
-  
Iwaizumi returns again the next day.  
"Are you skipping your college classes for me?"Oikawa says curiously one day, and Iwaizumi mutters, "Oh, shut up, Assikawa."  
And so Oikawa lets it go.  
Today, Oikawa is the one who talks. His words are annoying as ever: "Nurse number 10-chan brought me some soup, and now my throat is better than ever! Your kiss didn't help at all, Iwa-chan~"  
But both of them know that it's not true. While Iwaizumi kissing Oikawa's neck might not have actually helped his throat, it would have distracted Oikawa to the point where he didn't care about his throat.  
"Iwa-chan," says Oikawa. "Today, I'm getting candy for dinner as a reward for being such a good patient!"  
Iwaizumi resists the urge to punch him. Oikawa is battered and bruised enough, after all.  
"Good for you. Candy isn't that tasty anyway," grumbles Iwaizumi, just to get back at Oikawa.  
Oikawa just laughs.  
It's not real, but it's something.  
"Iwa-chan," says Oikawa suddenly again. "I don't have long to live."  
And Iwaizumi is brought back to reality.  
"I'm not only diagnosed with asthma," says Oikawa, his voice shaky as he coughs for the millionth time that day. "I have some kind of disease, and it kills after a while. I forgot the name. I think it starts with a t. I'm scared Iwa-chan." He says it in a rush, but Iwaizumi hardly hears anyway.  
"How do you manage to get yourself so hurt," is what Iwaizumi mutters, and then he's crying, crying into Oikawa's bed sheets, and how pathetic is that, because Oikawa is only watching him with an interested look on his face.  
Most of the day is spent like that. Iwaizumi holds back his tears, and the friends sit in a comfortable, scared silence.  
"I still have a few days, Iwa-chan."  
"You should've told me earlier, you idiot."  
At the end of the day, Oikawa looks at Iwaizumi. "Iwa-chan, did you know that stuff happens when you're not here? I start saying weird stuff. The nurses say it's symptoms of my disease. And I cough a lot, too..." Oikawa shrugs.  
If Iwaizumi is supposed to feel touched about that, he doesn't.  
"Hey, Iwa-chan. Smile for me. Please? Nothing hurts today. I'm peaceful."  
Iwaizumi wishes he could say the same. His heart hurts. So much.  
"Iwa-chan, does anything hurt for you?"  
"My heart," he blurts out and it's true, it's true. His heart is constricted, and his throat is lumpy. He can hardly swallow.  
"Get closer, Iwa-chan, you know I can't move out of bed," laughs Oikawa and it sounds so fake. So strained, and yet also peaceful, somehow.  
Iwaizumi moves closer, and puts his arms around Oikawa, if only to keep himself and his childhood friend stable.  
And Oikawa bends his head and kisses his chest, and it's not a short, sweet kiss. Oikawa stays like that for a long while, and Iwaizumi stays hugging him for a long while.  
Then the door swings open and the doctor says, "visiting hours over" in that monotonous voice of his.  
"Iwa-chan, don't cry any more," says Oikawa, his voice bitterly amused. "I'm the sad one out of us."  
The door closes behind them, separating the friends.  
It's only later that Oikawa notices that his hair is wet with salty tears, and that his hair is messed up, not in the usual perfect design it's in.  
For some reason, Oikawa prefers it like this.  
-  
"It's your last day."  
Oikawa nods. He's hardly hearing what they're saying, he's only waiting for Iwaizumi, but there is one thought on his mind:  
//It went from bruises to deadly diseases.//  
Sad.  
The door is slammed open earlier than usual, and Iwaizumi fast walks over to his bed. "I heard," says Iwaizumi, and that's all he has to say.  
They enjoy each other's company. Iwaizumi has brought over an alien movie they watched as children, a game of chutes and ladders ("it's snakes and ladders, Iwa-chan, and those snakes are CREEPY!")  
They play for hours. Oikawa is light headed - symptoms of this terminal-something, apparently, but around Iwa-chan, he feels safe, not at all like when he's alone and it's like a black hole appears.  
They laugh together, and the laughter isn't so fake as it was yesterday. Iwa-chan takes out cheesy poems Oikawa used to write for him, and he reads them out in a mocking voice, amidst the whines of "Iwa-channnnn! You're so meannnnn!"  
Iwaizumi can't leave his bedside, not now, not ever.  
"Iwa-chan, you're so ugly. Shouldn't you have dressed up all fancy and black?" says Oikawa at one point, and Iwaizumi is tempted to throw something at his head, except there are no volleyballs around and it wouldn't be the same without volleyballs.  
"I didn't get to say bye to Makki and Mattsun, and our children," observes Oikawa. "You should've brought them with you."  
"Mm." Iwaizumi had thought of that, but Makki and Mattsun didn't know about any of this. Iwaizumid didn't tell them; he'd wanted Oikawa all to himself. Selfish.  
The day is reaching an end, slowly, slowly, and Oikawa Tooru is expected to die at around 11:00 pm, estimated by doctors who have been counting down for weeks now.  
Iwaizumi doesn't want to be sad at this point, because he can't afford to be.  
It's going to happen, no matter what attitude you use towards it, so why not use a happy attitude, the kind that makes everyone smile?  
Because Iwaizumi needs to see Oikawa's smile one last time, his real smile.  
Today, the nurses are away, so it won't be the smile he shows to his fangirls. More like the one he shows to Iwaizumi.  
"Remember the crappy romance you made me watch once?" says Iwaizumi, trying to sound annoyed and failing miserably.  
"Remember the time you headbutted me for trying to hurt Tobio-chan?" Oikawa flashes a peace sign.  
They look at each other and laugh, and they sit in silence then, relishing memories which will slowly be erased soon.  
And then the clock turns to 8:00 pm. Visiting hours end at 8:10.  
Iwaizumi stands.  
"Don't leave me," mutters Oikawa, but he hardly has the strength to say it, let alone get up. "Hajime."  
"I didn't plan on it."  
Iwaizumi walks closer to Oikawa. "What hurts today?"  
And he doesn't expect Oikawa's answer, not really. After all, Oikawa always tries to be positive. "Everything, Iwa-chan. Everything hurts and everything's hurt for a while now and I love you."  
"I know," says Iwaizumi, and he leaves it at that.  
He kisses Tooru's hands softly, his palms and his fingers. He kisses Tooru's chest and his stomach. He kisses Tooru's thighs, and the knee injury Tooru first got from overwork. He kisses Tooru's forehead gently, and bops his nose, and then he kisses Tooru's hair.  
At last, he puts his lips to Oikawa's. It's not a gentle kiss like all the others, but a fierce kiss, alight with vigorous passion, and pain. Of course pain, because nothing comes without a cost, does it?  
They rock, back and forth, because this night is their last and there's so much they haven't experienced, and so Iwaizumi Hajime whispers, "I //love you, Tooru//," and Tooru smiles, a genuine smile and he says, "Of course you do, Iwa-chan. Make sure to tell your children about my great accomplishments, too!"  
"I'm not having children," says Iwaizumi, and at that moment, the doctor pokes his head in, and his voice is lighter than usual as he says, "Visiting hours over..."  
Iwaizumi goes home, his lips trembling, and Oikawa goes to sleep, a smile on his face, for the very last time.


	6. Day 6: Valentine's Day (Nick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh it sucks again but Im on spring break and I honestly don't have time so  
> Sorry for short and shitty

A tiniest ghost of a smile danced across Oikawa's face as he entered their - his - apartment. As he dropped his groceries onto the floor and stumbled into his room, he had trouble breathing. Everything was so terribly wrong.  
He had tried his best to keep him. By the skin of his teeth, he fought, he struggled, anything to make their relationship okay again.  
He recalled all the times they spent together, sweet words and tangled limbs and confessions of love whispered in the middle of the night. He recalled the ups and the downs, permanently burned into his mind, because tragedies always are.  
He remembered that one time Iwaizumi almost chose a different high school, and how they had to write endless letters in the dark corner of Tooru's room begging for a transfer because he absolutely refused to toss to another ace. He remembered their first victory in high school, how they cried in joy on each other's shoulder, and their first loss, holding back the tears. He remembered the endless walks home under the stars, and sometimes, just sometimes how Iwaizumi would hold his hand. He remembered rocks thrown to his window, and sneaking out into the woods behind his house and forbidden promises and stolen kisses, and three am phone calls with raspy voices and how they'd talk each other to sleep. He recalled sweet poems for Valentine's day and chocolates and discreet kisses on his birthday.  
Their third year, their ups and Downs, and their loss to Karasuno, and their shared tears in their apartment that night.  
Oh, their apartment. It was more of a home than anything else Oikawa could think of. Evidence of /them/ was everywhere - in clothes discarded in hurry, in those action figures they got at fairs, in their massive alien movie DVD collection. In one permanently made bed, in unwashed coffee cups, in blanket left on the floor. Oikawa remembered when they got in, in their final year of high school. Getting away from parents and focusing on each other was the life. He remembered takeout food and movie marathons and shared baths. Once they moved in there, they didn't spend a night sleeping in separate beds.  
He remembered college, and parties and that bathroom in the basement, where they'd meet between lectures, where nobody could hear. He remembered volleyball and a big fuss about his knee and how he had to quit, and how Iwaizumi didn't leave him even then.  
He remembered work, endless work and then coffee and then more work, but how it was worth it because somebody was waiting on him. Those were the good times, before Iwaizumi started slipping trough his fingers.  
Oikawa also remembered someone else, a man with fierce red hair and challenge in his eyes, visiting frequently, when he was at work. Just a friend, Iwaizumi said. Just a colleague. About that time Oikawa started feeling that his love maybe isn't his alone.  
But even that was before, before truth was spoken and his love started sleeping on the couch, before vows were broken and hearts were shattered, before all hopes and dreams and futures were lost. Before that day, when he said he's had enough, that day when he left and left Tooru all alone in their apartment, their apartment which seemed frightingly huge now.  
He saw him again, on the street, holding the hand of that redhead. That just a friend, that colleague that stole his whole life. He didn't stop, he didn't look, because his eyes started to burn.  
Alien movies weren't the same when you watched them all alone. Women, men, alcohol, drugs, none of that offered the slightest of escape from the screaming hole in his chest. He remembered nights spent crying into the pillow, waiting for that three am I miss you text that will never come, because all that he ever wanted was now sleeping in someone else's arms, happy and loved.  
The thought alone was killing him.

Turning his head to the side on their - his - bed, Oikawa felt a familiar burning in his eyes again. He could barely make out the numbers on the calendar trough the tears, and when he did, he laughed a laugh so bitter it almost scared him. 

Of course, February 14.


	7. Day 7: Victory (Indie)

Tooru tossed the ball to the spiker, and the spiker managed to spike the ball down, thus ending the match.  
The setter leaned over, breathing loudly.  
He hadn’t played with his best friend for...years, now, and yet he was still a good player. This match was 2-0 to Oikawa’s team, and they would continue winning for a while now, Oikawa was sure of it. After all, his team was strong; they had him on it.  
But it wasn’t the same without Hajime. They’d gone their separate ways after that last match, and there had been tears, there had been protests, but eventually the best friends had to part ways.  
And they’d both found new teams, new teams that they synched with and loved a lot.   
Never quite as much as each other, though.  
Oikawa’s new spiker slapped him on the head, bringing him back to reality. “Line up, Oikawa-kun.”  
Oikawa turned, almost expecting to see Iwa-chan, except of course no, because Iwa-chan would’ve called him Assikawa, as the meanie he was.  
“Our next opponent,” Oikawa’s spiker, Ushei muttered, “Is some other professional team, Ayato, they’re called. Have you ever heard of them?”  
Oikawa shook his head cheerfully, and crossed his fingers behind his back that maybe, maybe this Ayato team was Iwa-chan’s team, please, please.  
“They have a player called Iwaizumi Hajime,” continued Ushei and Oikawa looked up, his face displaying shock. “Why do you look so surprised?”   
“Ah, ano, I used to…I knew him. We were on the same team. You should’ve known that, if you watch volleyball.” Oikawa shrugged, trying not to look so excited at this point.  
“I don’t watch,” muttered Ushei, and they bowed to the opposing team. “Thank you for the match!”  
“When’s the next match?” asked Oikawa.  
“In a few hours, I think.” Ushei shrugged. “I dunno, I just found ou-“ He stopped when he saw Oikawa wasn’t listening.   
“Yes,” muttered Oikawa. “I get to beat Iwa-chan.”  
—  
The next few hours passed in a blur. Oikawa paced the gym, making excited faces that got Ushei to tell him to “stop looking constipated,” to which Oikawa almost replied, “TOO HARSH!” except no, those childish words, those were reserved for only Iwa-chan.   
“Why’re you so excited anyway?” asked a middle blocker on Oikawa’s team. “You just used to be on the same team, right?”  
“He was my best friend,” said Oikawa and left it at that.  
He continued to pace.  
—  
Iwaizumi’s team was late, and Oikawa was panicking.  
“Where’s IWA-CHANNNNNNNNNNNN,” he wailed, flailing his arms about.   
“You’re supposed to be our captain, shut the hell up,” muttered Ushei, sounding painfully like Iwaizumi. And so Oikawa continued wailing and whining and doing god knows what the hell because he wanted IWA-CHANNNNNNNNNNN."  
And then the team stepped into the court. Oikawa immediately gulped and whispered, “Hide me!” to the tall middle blocker.  
“What are you, ten?” grumbled Ushei as the blocker obediently covered Oikawa.  
“He’s here,” whispered Oikawa, and Ushei squinted. “Spiky head, you mean?”  
“Yes! IWA-CHANNNNNNN!!!!” Oikawa ran towards his old friend, arms flailing, his eyes shining with excitement.  
Iwaizumi blinked. “Assikawa.”  
“Yay! You remember me!” Oikawa laughed, giddy. “Iwa-chan, we get to play each other today.”  
Iwaizumi nodded, strangely calm.  
“Wanna do this like a competition?” asked Oikawa, his expression suddenly serious. “We can…have a competition.”  
“A competition?” Iwaizumi echoed.  
“Mhm! This is just stage one. Winner of this match gets a kiss.”  
“Wait, WHAT?” spluttered Iwaizumi, flustered. “A kiss?”  
“A kiss from the other parties competing in this competition and—“  
“I DIDN’T AGREE TO THIS, ASSIKAWA.”  
“Iwa-chan,” whined Oikawa. “It’s for fun.”  
“No, I mean—I have a girlfriend,” said Iwaizumi.  
Oikawa’s smile disappeared. “Oh,” he said softly, and Iwaizumi was about to say something, before—“That makes it all the more fun though, doesn’t it? We’ll just try really hard to win!”  
“Are you kidd—“  
“Stage one begins!” said Oikawa, cheerfully.  
“Hey, wait a second there, Assi—“  
“Wait up, Ushei, don’t stretch without me!”  
—  
The game began.   
Throughout the game, Iwaizumi’s team got lots of spikes in. They had Iwa-chan, after all.  
But Oikawa’s team was stronger. Oikawa sure knew how to set, and Oikawa’s spiker was strong. They made such a good combo, about half as good as the Iwaizumi and Oikawa team.  
Not to mention, the middle blockers on Oikawa’s team were taller, they had better timing. The libero could receive many, many types of strange serves, and spikes too. Iwaizumi’s team were a step behind Oikawa’s.  
It was a good match though. It ended 2-1, with Iwaizumi’s team taking them to a deuce in the second set, before winning it. and the final results to Oikawa’s team were 25-21, 28-26, and finally, 25-23.  
“Not bad, Iwa-chan, but I still get to kiss you,” said Oikawa cheekily, making Iwaizumi groan “Are you kidding me?”  
Oikawa leaned over, and he touched his lips to Iwaizumi’s, and it felt kind of nice. Not that Iwaizumi would admit it.  
“Stage two!” Oikawa winked. “Who can get the most girls?”  
“Oh my god, are you trying to make me murder you,” Iwaizumi mumbled. “I told you, I have a girlfriend.”  
“Eh, Iwa-chan, who cares about her?” dismissed Oikawa. “She probably doesn’t even exist. Don’t kill me,” he added to the end quickly.  
“I’ll try,” agreed Iwaizumi.   
“Okay, like I was saying before Iwa-chan interrupted so rudely.” Oikawa huffed away, then continuted. “This contest is ‘who can pick up the most girls’?”  
“We all know who’s going to win that one, asshole,” said Iwaizumi, slightly annoyed that Oikawa would pick something as obvious as that. “I’m not participating.”  
“You’re no fun. I’m making you participate, by the way, it’s not your choice.”  
“You have the worst personality ever and I hate you.”  
“Eh? You love me Iwa-chan~♥"  
“Dumbasskawa.”  
“Don’t abbreviate it like that!” Their childish banter went on for a while, until the onlookers—the other players—cleared their throats. Or at least Ushei did, and when Oikawa left Oikawa’s side to join his spiker friend, Ushei muttered, “You’re closer than I thought you were.”  
“Shut upppp!” said Oikawa, obviously enjoying what Ushei was saying.  
“'Iwa-channn, give me a kissssss!!! Iwa-chan, marry me!’ ‘Dumbasskawa, let’s have a wedding in a graveyard so I can kill you and no one will know!’ ‘So mean, Iwa-chan, I know you’re just joking anyway, baby!’” Ushei mocked.  
Oikawa pushed him over. “Hey, that’s not fair! Iwa-chan and I share a long history…”  
“…of sex.”  
“If Iwa-chan hears you, he’ll kill you,” whispered Oikawa, before bounding over to Iwaizumi. “Iwa-chan, it’s pick up the girls time!”  
“I don’t want to be kissed by you again,” said Iwaizumi.  
“That was mean, Iwa-chan!” whined Oikawa. Then he turned serious. “Try to win then.”  
“…I don’t want to kiss you, either.”  
“Too bad! Try to win, anyway! I’ve wanted you to kiss me since we were like, 12, Iwa-chan!”  
“Lay off the Iwa-chan when you’re talking about kissing.”  
“Sure, Iwa-chan."  
“I have a girlfriend.”  
“I have a lie detector and I know for a fact that you’re lying.”  
“I’m not lying, Assikawa.”  
“Mhm.”  
They argued for a while, saying things like “liar,” like “you don’t have a girlfriend!” and “I have a girlfriend, you’re the one who never sticks with one girl” but it was just them. Those arguments were the usual comical things Iwaizumi and Oikawa talked about, after all.  
It was just them, and it’s funny.  
But Iwaizumi couldn’t erase the funny feeling in his stomach that came when Oikawa kissed him.  
It’s just Oikawa…  
—  
“How many girls’ have said they wanted to date you?”  
“Ten thousand,” grumbled Iwaizumi.  
“Liarrrrr,” sniggered Oikawa. “I planted a voice recorder in your pocket, cause I know you’re SUCH a liar, Iwa-chan.”  
“I’m going to kill you! Why the hell would you do something like that?”  
“Why not?” Oikawa flashed a peace sign, and fished the voice recorder out of Iwaizumi’s pocket, amidst all his complaints.  
He turned it on, and...  
“…Iwa-chan.”  
“Yesss?” For once in his life talking to Oikawa, he sounded nervous.  
“Why are you watching volleyball at home in this video?” The sound of a whistle blew in the background.  
“I have a girlfriend.”  
“Still going on about Miss Fake? Too bad, Iwa-chan, I won’t succumb for lies.”  
“They’re not li—“  
Oikawa leaned over and gave his best friend a kiss, and Iwaizumi's lips didn’t taste like the strawberry chapstick all Oikawa’s girlfriends wore, and for some reason, Oikawa liked it better this way.  
“I’ll be waiting for you to kiss me, Iwa-chan! I’m so disappointed in you, you’re really not trying hard enough~”  
“Asshole,” muttered Iwaizumi, dizzy because //what the hell what the hell what the hell this was Oikawa//.  
“I picked up 13 girls before I decided I was bored,” shrugged Oikawa. “I kissed them all too, you know.”  
“No wonder your lips taste like strawberries,” said Iwaizumi, a frown on his face.  
“I can’t believe you pay attention to that stuff! So you do like kissing me, Iwa-chan!”  
“Assikawa.”  
“Mmmmmmm?”  
“I’LL KILL YOU!”  
“AHHH!” Oikawa ran off, and Iwaizumi obediently chased him, yelling angrily at his friend.  
—  
“Next thing, Iwa-chan, our competition is…” Oikawa paused dramatically. “Who can find the most girl clothes in their houses?”  
“I have a question, Assikawa,” said Iwaizumi through gritted teeth, trying not to punch Oikawa in the face. “Why do you keep picking things you know you’re going to win?”  
Oikawa grinned. “You look really cute when you’re flustered. I wanna save your kiss for a special time.”  
“I hope you know that I want to murder you.”  
“EH??”  
“I want to slowly murder y—“  
“Iwa-chan, you are such a mean person. I don’t know why we’re still friends. Now, go to your house and find the girl clothes~”  
Iwaizumi and Oikawa thus parted, Oikawa smiling like crazy, Iwaizumi with a frown on his face.  
But both their eyes sparkled.  
—  
“Zero, Iwa-chan?” tutted Oikawa. “Didn’t you look in your parents’ rooms?”  
“No. They were busy.”  
“Busy, huh?” Oikawa wiggled his eyebrows.  
“//Not like that you dirty minded freak//.”  
“Little Iwaizumis are gonna be born soon,” said Oikawa. “I guess I have to kiss you again…god, Iwa-chan, if you really have a girlfriend, why aren’t you getting mad at me?”  
Iwaizumi froze. “I—“  
Of course, Oikawa interrupted him, by taking his face, and sliding their lips together.  
Of course, it only lasted a second, because of course Iwaizumi did not kiss back nope no definitely not.  
Of course.  
—  
“Fourth,” said Oikawa. “See how many books we can balance on our heads.”  
This could go either way, of course. Iwaizumi was muscle while Oikawa was balance but this could go either way, though Iwaizumi wouldn’t put it past the setter to cheat, just to get his best friend flustered again.  
Idiot.  
—  
“Five, six, seven…” Oikawa balanced yet another book, and his tower wobbled dangerously. Meanwhile, Iwaizumi was through his tenth book, but both of them were out of books.  
And Oikawa, being Oikawa, grabbed three books from Iwa-chan’s head, balanced them on his own and gave a winning smile. “I get to kiss you once again, //Hajime//.”  
So he took Iwaizumi’s wrists, and he pulled his best friend over, and he kissed the other male and it tasted kind of sweet.  
“And I’ve decided, the next competition we’re doing is something you can win,” said Oikawa mischievously.   
“Oh, jesus,” Iwaizumi muttered. “You can’t exactly…well…force me to kiss you…”  
“Watch me,” Oikawa sniggered. “Okie dokie, Iwa-chan. This bet…is that…my team is gonna win against the team we play against tomorrow! If we win, you have to kiss me, just to make it a really nice victory! If my team loses, I kiss you again. I bet you’re hoping I’ll lose!” He laughed at Iwaizumi’s incredulous look. “What?"  
“What the hell, Assikawa,” said Iwaizumi. “You already know that you’re good enough to do that.”  
“You flatter me, Iwa-chan.” He paused for a second. “This is the last competition, okayyy?”  
“I’m fine with that,” said Iwaizumi quickly. “I’m totally fine with that.”  
“Aw, Iwa-chan, don’t you like my kisses?” whined Oikawa. “I can always make you my partner for kissing practice.”  
“Die in a HOLE, ASSIKAWAAA!” yelled Iwaizumi, and he hit Oikawa over the head, to which Oikawa Tooru muttered, “So childish!”  
“You’re such a cheater, though,” said Iwaizumi. “My girlfriend isn’t.”  
“Still going on about this non-existent girlfriend?” mocked Oikawa.  
Iwaizumi took deep breaths. “I’m going to be my mother and ignore you.”  
“It’s no fun when you don’t get annoyed,” mumbled Oikawa. Then a pause. “Tell me to break a leg, okay?”  
“I hope you literally break a leg.”  
“Mean!”  
“…good luck.”  
“Saying good luck guarantees bad luck, Iwa-chan.”  
“Exactly.”  
“So if you’re wishing me bad luck, then that means you’re hoping we’ll lose, which means you want another kiss from me!”  
“That’s some screwed up logic you have there. I have a girlfriend, remember?”  
“Iwa-chan, stop lying. No one would date an ugly brute like you.”  
“You little—ARGH!”   
“You can’t catch me!”  
“I’m not even going to bother. I’m mature. Unlike you.”  
“Yeah, but you’re a brute.”  
“SCREW MATURITY, YOU LITTLE SHIT. I’M GOING TO KILL YOU."  
—  
Oikawa set the ball to Ushei, and he spiked it down. 25-18, 2-0.  
Of course, it wasn’t as cool a spike as it would’ve been with Iwa-chan.  
Of course, Ushei and Oikawa weren’t so much in synch.  
Of course, Oikawa didn’t enjoy the victory as much as he would’ve with Iwa-chan.  
But…  
//They won.//  
Oikawa’s eyes lit up as he realised what that meant.  
“Iwa-chan!!!” he yelled, eyes scanning the bleachers for his best friend/whatever the hell kind of relationship they shared ('cause most best friends didn’t give kisses to each other, right?)  
He spotted the spikes in the hair immediately. Iwa-chan was face palming (meanie), probably because he sucked at kissing, unlike Oikawa who was totally awesome at it, and finally, finally, Iwaizumi was coming down.  
—  
The first thing Iwaizumi did when he spotted Oikawa was groan, groan very very loudly.  
“Rules are rules, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa teased, wrapping his arms around him. “Kiss meeee?”  
“You’re not making it any easier,” said Iwaizumi. “In front of everyone?”  
“In front of ever—mmppphhhhh.” Iwaizumi had finally got a move on, and he’d pressed his lips to Oikawa’s, and they kissed, a proper kiss, and Oikawa kissed back of course, because he is an ass like that.  
They both were sweaty and disgusting, but in Oikawa’s opinion, it was the best kiss ever. It was //victorious.//  
“I still have a girlfriend, you know,” muttered Iwaizumi.  
“Doesn’t exist.”  
“She DOES!”  
“Nah, Iwa-chan, if you had a girlfriend you wouldn’t have enjoyed kissing me so much!”  
“I d—HEY, WHO SAID I ENJOYED KISSING YOU?”  
“It’s OBVIOUS, Iwa-chan!”  
“Watch out, I’m going to kill you, Assikawa!”  
“Wah, that’s not romantic at all!”  
//Victory.//


	8. Day 8: The Day Tooru was Convinced his Friend was an Alien (Nick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy a bit longer. Tbh I just wanted Iwaoi in sunglasses. Oikawa was texting Kenma at the beginning. Implied Hazuki Nagisa and Ryugazaki Rei, though no names mentioned so you can read without that. Enjoy.

Only tapping of fingers to a screen and occasional sound of a page being flipped was heard in their apartment their rainy afternoon. Iwaizumi was laying on his stomach, supporting himself on his elbows, a book settled in Oikawa's lap, who was sitting with his legs up on the coffee table. Oikawa, on the other hand, was looking at the screen of his phone, seemingly texting. It was calming, just quietly enjoying each other's company, their empty tea mugs resting on the floor because they were too lazy to take them back to the kitchen. Tooru's hand would occasionally reach out to run his long fingers trough the other's hair, only to get slapped away for being annoying.  
After a long, comfortable while, Iwaizumi was the first to speak.  
"I'm going to my family's beach house for the spring holidays", he said, not looking up from the book. "Mum said you should come too, since you're apparently part of the family."  
A low laugh rose in Tooru's throat as he tapped another message.  
"What will I do, being the only non-Iwaizumi there? I love your family, but intruding vacations, just.."  
With that, Iwa-chan closed his book and nuzzled his head into Oikawa's lap instead.  
"Please, I'll die without you. You know how my mother gets. Also, Kira is taking a friend too, so you won't be the only one. Assikawa. Please. "  
Kira was Iwaizumi's younger sister, 14 years old. She was a bit...wild, thought of herself as a full-on adult, to a point to when Hajime was moving to live with Tooru closer to his school, she insisted on moving in as well. They had to physically restrain her. Nice girl.  
"I don't know, Iwa-chan.."  
"Beach volleyball."  
"When do we go?"  
A little laugh, and he reached up to place a kiss onto his best friend's cheek. It wasn't unusual; they'd grown to enjoy the closeness, innocent touches and a couple of nights spent asleep together under a blanket after studying their next opponent trough endless game tapes meant everything yet nothing.  
Oikawa's phone beeped again as he offered down a small, but honest smile, the kind he reserved for Iwaizumi and maybe his wedding day, before he got back to texting someone else.

***

When Iwaizumi exited the apartment building after locking up, Oikawa was already behind the wheel (they only had one car. Why would they need more if they just go everywhere together anyway?), chatting one of their pretty neighbours up. She was just back from grocery shopping, when a 18 year old in a striped polo shirt, police sunglasses and one arm leaned on an open window ambushed her and started flashing conversation and fake smiles. Iwaizumi registered her as Yamadari Kiichi, apartment 4b. Single, 17, living with her big sister. She brought them chocolate chip cookies when they first moved in.  
"Kiichan", Hajime greeted her with a smile, "sorry to interrupt, but we have to go. Say hi to Akira for us!" She waved and he flopped down onto the front seat, putting on his sunglasses as well.  
"It's hot."  
"That's just me."  
"Drive before I kick your ass."  
"Mean!"

***

The house wasn't too big;.just a stone building with three bedrooms and a small kitchen which doubled as a living room. It didn't matter, because people didn't come here to spend time inside. The beach was wonderful, white and public and not at all far from the house, just one path trough the forest away.  
Where's the alien, you might wonder. How does this have anything to do with the title?  
When Tooru saw her, he /knew/. Tooru heard her brother was on some swim team, and that's all he knew about her. Her long, blonde hair was decorated with ribbons with a few bright pink highlights, she was wearing a floral pattern tank top, with more colours than Oikawa could count, a black, glittery mini skirt and thigh high socks - in this heat, both Oikawa and Iwaizumi were in bermuda shorts, short sleeves and shades on - with some other kind of odd pattern on them. The thing was, she didn't look /bad/, it all somehow fit her perfectly. Her big, pinkish red eyes shone with excitement as she bounced around a much more ordinary girl - black ponytail, shorts and a T-shirt - Iwa-chan's sister.  
"Hajime! Tooru! Finally!" The girl chipped and hurried towards them, her odd friend behind her. She bowed and looked at her friend, who did the same.  
"My name is Hazuki Asuna, it's a pleasure to meet you!" Her voice was one of a normal fourteen year old girl when they saw Oikawa for the first time: stuttery and high pitched. He laughed attractively, took his sunglasses off and flashed her a peace sign. "Oikawa Tooru, nice to meet you, Asuna-chan!"  
Iwaizumi wanted to puke at the fakeness of his voice. 

Once they were inside the house (after being ambushed and fed by Iwaizumi's mother), they got the room the furthest from the entrance, with one bed and one sleeping bag in it. While they were unpacking, Oikawa said it.  
"Iwa-chan, I think she's an alien."  
"My mother? "  
"Wh-No, Asuna-chan!"  
Iwaizumi's eyebrows rose. "Not everyone out of the ordinary is from outer space, idiot. Take the bed."  
Oikawa was sitting on the floor. None of them was surprised they shared the room, sharing living space and generally everything was normal for them.  
"She wore /socks/, Iw- "  
"You're ridiculous."  
With that, a knock was heard and Hajime's mother slowly entered.  
"Boys.." she began warmly, a nervous smile dancing on her lips. "I want you to look after the two of them. They can get quite...wild. I need you to make sure the girls don't wander off, or meet some older, dangerous guys..I'm not saying I want to take away your vacation!" She panicked, obviously nervous now. Tooru gave her his Smile no. 15, comfort kind people and took her hand.,"We'd be honored to, ma'am. Nothing will happen to them."  
She looked relieved as she hugged him, as warm as if he was her own son. "Thank you, Tooru, I knew I could count on such a sweet, handsome young m- "  
"It's no problem, mom." Hajime added from the bed, dismissing her.  
Once she was out, Oikawa laid down onto the bed, next to his friend.  
"So, what will we do with them?"  
"We'll teach them how to play volleyball, of course."  
"Even the alien?"  
"Even the alien."

***

The next morning, the girls were awoken by the sound of two heavy volleyball players bouncing on their beds. Already full in gear - shorts, easily removable t-shirts and sunglasses, now tucked at the tops of their heads, Oikawa and Iwaizumi came to call them down, for breakfast.  
After some eggs and well-poured orange juice, they were out. Asuna was again, dressed odd and colorful, and Tooru stared a lot. It seemed she thought he was interested, which made her swing her hips a little more noticeably and hold her chin a little prouder. Iwaizumi almost laughed when he saw Oikawa's eyes widen at that behavior, he still held her an alien.  
The beach was crowded, but they found a place to practice. Both of them knew the basics, so they mostly just passed the ball around or let the girls spike Tooru's tosses while Hajime received them and returned them to the setter. Later, they just took their clothes off and disappeared into the sea. Oikawa carried Asuna on his shoulders around she shallow waters, eager to interrogate her about where she was from and such. Iwaizumi wanted to drown the dork, but pushed them both underwater playfully instead.  
When the sun set and they wished to go home, they found someone took their clothes. Oikawa wept over his sunglasses for a while, then grabbed the ball and Iwaizumi's hand (the girls gave them a look, but didn't say anything ) and rolled home.

***

The next couple of days went by similarly; they played volleyball, visited the town, played volleyball again, swam, splashed, hosted campfires. The whole time the girls couldn't get enough of Oikawa's chest, Oikawa couldn't get enough of Iwaizumi's chest, and Iwaizumi couldn't get enough of keeping all the kids together. Sometimes the two of them would sit by in the shade, drinking something cold and chatting to fill the silence, letting the girls run around and meet people. Sometimes Oikawa would fall asleep from the cozy, salty air, and Hajime would get to finish his drink. He also interrogated Asuna a lot, and told Iwaizumi what evidence of her alienship he found at night.  
However, a different topic from the sun and the wind and volleyball came across one night in their room.  
It was roughly 1am, they had gone to sleep, a faint trail of moonlight which came in trough the window being the only thing illuminating the room. Some ruffling was heard from the bed, before a quiet whisper followed.  
"Hajime? Are you awake?"  
"Yeah", a voice responded from the floor. He knew not to bother him for being annoying when he called him by his first name, let alone when his voice was a little shaky. He turned in his bag to look at the figure in the bed.  
"I wanna go home."  
Slightly taken back from his own words, Oikawa felt a familiar warmth slipping into the bed and letting him in his arms, when a small kiss to the top of his head followed.  
"I'm here", Hajime mumbled into the brown curls, "you /are/ home."  
Tooru felt his smile grow proportionally to the warmth in his chest.  
He really was.

***

It was their departure day, and Iwaizumi was wearing a skirt. He was also holding his hand and singing the anthem, but that wasn't that important.  
A huge, hot pink spaceship was right there on the beach, with a lot of blonde people with pink highlights and thigh high socks waving on it. Asuna ran up and hugged a boy on the ship, whispering something about milk bread and killing a certain person named something like Ushikaka and his partner in crime, Bobio-chan, into his ear before the spaceship took off, leaving a pink trail and with the aliens waving at the people on the beach. Tooru waved Happily with the hand that wasn't holding Iwa-chan's, then turned towards the president to get some cake, with the sound of Hajime still beautifully singing the anthem.

***

Oikawa's eyes shot open, blinking away the sleep. Iwa-chan was still asleep, arm heavy around him. He sunk into the warmth, nuzzling his best friend's more than well developed biceps, and waited for him to wake up.  
After breakfast, they went out to another day on the sun. Tooru spent more time lazing around with Iwaizumi and watching after the girls instead of questioning Asuna-chan, which was unusual, so Iwaizumi asked about it when they were passing the ball to each other and the girls were swimming.  
"Say, you're oddly quiet. Came to any conclusions?"  
"Yep. She's an alien. Also, the president makes excellent cakes, and you have a lovely singing voice."  
Hajime laughed, not even surprised at the response.

***

The following day was departure day; school began soon and they had to go back. A blonde guy did in fact come to pick Asuna-chan up, except his spaceship was an old, used car and he had a person with blue hair and red glasses on the front seat instead of highlights. The odd girl waved enthusiastically, before slipping her phone number in Tooru's pocket and kissing his cheek, skipping off with a giggle.  
After they hugged and said goodbye to Hajime's parents and Kira, they were finally back in their car.  
"So, you planning on calling her?" Iwaizumi asked while tying his seat belt.  
"Of course!" Oikawa adjusted his sunglasses, the mirror and turned the machine on. "I have to dissect her to see what aliens are like inside."  
"Drive before I kick your ass."  
Laughter, real, not faked laughter.  
"Mean!"


	9. Day 9: Prank Gone Wrong (Indie)

"Iwa-chan!”  
“Aren’t you supposed to be a god?” Iwaizumi Hajime said, a little frown on his face. “Why would you still call me Iwa-chan? That’s not very godlike at all."  
Oikawa shrugged. “When I’m in human form, it’s fineeeee~” He said it with such confidence, it sounded something like “I’m good enough to do anything I’d like, because I can be both god and human!”  
“You’re so stuck up,” said Iwaizumi, catching the confident undertone. “You’re a stuck up ass.”  
“Hey, Iwa-chan, that was rude!”  
“You’re ruder. Why the hell are you the god of good looks and kindness…” Iwaizumi Hajime shook his head disbelievingly.  
“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa waved his hands around, clearly distressed. “I’m getting revenge on you!”  
“Go ahead,” snickered Iwaizumi. “Just try not to murder me with your impressive godly powers.”  
“I will!” Oikawa stomped away, clearly mad, but Oikawa was Oikawa, and Oikawa would get over it. After all, he was never one to harm his friends.  
He did want revenge though…  
—  
“So your human boyfriend pissed you off,” drawled Kuroo, god of cats. “How very //exciting//. Do you plan on killing him?”  
“Huh? Why would I kill my best friend?” asked Oikawa, genuinely confused. “He might be a mortal, but still! I wanna turn him into a god soon, anyway, so I can’t have him dead, and I know that you wouldn’t kill Kenma.”  
“Kenma’s different.”  
“Kenma isn’t different!”  
“Kenma is quiet and doesn’t insult my godly powers.”  
“Iwa-chan’s loud and I like that!” said Oikawa defensively, before realising he was supposed to be mad at his friend. “I only came to you because I needed your advice, you-you-useless cat lady!”  
“Someone seems to be in a bad mood,” said Kuroo, finally laughing out loud. “Useless cat lady? At least I’m not in love with my mortal friend.”  
“I am //not// in love with Iwa-chan!” Oikawa protested, stamping his feet and making the whole room crackle with statics.   
“God of kindness, my ass,” said Kuroo lazily, lying down on his throne. “No wonder this friend of yours doesn’t like you.”  
“Iwa-chan loves me,” mumbled Oikawa. “I just need to come up with a prank for him, and then we can make up-“  
“Has he even taught you to play volleyball yet?”  
“Hmmmm? Volleyball?”  
“It’s a sport with a ball,” said Kuroo, closing his eyes. “Ask him about it if he’s not dead by the time you finish pranking him. Gods are powerful, you know, you should be very careful about that.”  
And Oikawa started planning, Kuroo Tetsurou’s words ringing in his ears clear as day.  
—  
“SO, I have called a meeting of all the gods of Olympus to-“  
“Please hurry up, Oikawa-san,” said Akaashi, god of reading, quietly. “Bokuto-san says he wants to show me something he got today.”  
“Don’t add such polite honorifics to the names of mortals!” said Oikawa, tutting loudly. “I have gathered you all today to-“  
“Get on with it, pretty boy,” said a god named Tanaka, cracking his knuckles.  
“I was, but you assholes keep interrupting me,” said Oikawa, clearly annoyed. “Can you all shut up before I beat your heads in? ANYWAY, I’ve gathered you here today to help me orchestrate a plan upon my human friend-“  
“You finally figured out a prank idea, huh?” said Kuroo quietly from behind Oikawa, making the god of kindness jump. “Let’s hope it’s not like every other plan you’ve come up with in the past: total, total shit.”  
“That was rude,” muttered Oikawa, glaring at Kuroo. “You’re too mean to me.”  
“You can handle it,” said Kuroo, bored. “So, what’s this plan of yours?”  
“I plan to…” Oikawa took a deep breath. “SET THE HUMAN WORLD ON FIRE!”  
“…”  
“…”  
“…”  
“Oikawa-senpai, I have a question,” said Kageyama, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you //actually// stupid?”  
“Huh?” Oikawa scratched his chin. “No, I don’t think so, why?”  
“I honestly think you are,” said Kageyama in wonder, “Because that is the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”  
“You’re so disrespectful towards your senpai, adorable little kouhai,” said Oikawa, clearly annoyed. “Why is that stupid at all?”  
“Okay, one,” said Kageyama. “This is a harmless little prank, as you put it. I don’t think you’ve done proper research on mortals, because mortals are fragile little things. They get burnt.”  
“Huh?”  
“Two,” said Kageyama. “If you plan on doing this prank, then you plan on erasing the human world. We’re powerful enough to reset it all, you know that, right?”  
“Ehhh?”  
“Three,” said Kageyama, ignoring his senpai. “We have people we care about down there. Don’t even think about touching them.”  
“Gods, kouhai, you’re so demanding,” muttered Oikawa. “FINE, guys, got any better ideas?”  
He was met with silence.  
“Fine. Then I’ll carry out my pl-“  
“Keep Kenma alive or I’ll murder you,” said Kuroo sweetly.  
“What are you talking about? Fire won’t burn the mortals…not unless they’re really, really, really fragile!”  
“They’re really, really fragile,” said Sugawara suddenly. “Please don’t kill Daichi, or Shimizu Kiyoko-san, or Michimiya Yui-kun, or-“  
“Wait, wait,” said Oikawa. “Fire really kills them?” He looked down at the huge coal in his hands, which suddenly seemed a million times more dangerous. “I don’t want Iwa-chan to die.”  
“Then come up with some other stupid plan that doesn’t end the world,” said Akaashi quietly. “I need to go meet Bokuto.”  
Oikawa looked down at the coal in his hands once again.  
—  
“Prank, huh?” Kuroo said, a small frown on his face. “Why are you still asking me about that?”  
“Well…” Oikawa scratched the back of his head with his hand. “I can’t just let Iwa-chan get away with his meanness!”  
“You wanted to murder him,” pointed out Kuroo. “I think he’s more qualified to call you mean than you are to call him…”  
“I didn’t know that would kill him!” protested Oikawa. “I didn’t!”   
“Ah, yes, the joy of oblivion,” said Kuroo, his trademark smirk on his face. “You’re not what anyone would call smart. It shocks me that this Iwa-chan even wants to be your friend.”  
“Mean!” said Oikawa, frowning. “Pleasssseeee, Kuroo-chan, I want to show Iwa-chan that gods are better than humans!”  
“Oh my GODS you are a huge douchebag,” said Kuroo, still grinning. “How about you throw an arrow at him?”  
“Hmm? Will that kill him?”  
“Probably,” said Kuroo, sniggering, “But you didn’t seem to care about it earlier when you wanted to set all those poor mortals on fire.”  
“I hate you with a burning passion, Kuroo-chan,” mumbled Oikawa.   
“Can’t you just let it go if you love him that much?” said Kuroo, sighing. Oikawa looked at him in surprise.  
“But Iwa-chan deserves to-“  
“Know that gods are far above mortals, yes, yes, get over that attitude of yours. There are two species that make up the evils of the world; gods AND mortals. Don’t think you’re alone.”  
Oikawa stared at Kuroo. “You sounded like Iwa-chan, just then, except he sounded cooler.”  
“I give up on you,” muttered Kuroo, as cats surrounded his feet, meowing loudly at Oikawa, who backed away.   
“Gods, get those evil demons away from me!” yelped the god of good looks. “I didn’t do anything!”  
Kuroo was too busy laughing. “How about you set my cats on your Iwa-chan?” he howled. “They seem to scare you enough, and both you and Iwa-chan seem to be unreasonable idiots!”  
“Only I get to call him Iwa-ch-wait, UNREASONABLE IDIOTS? How dare you! You’re the god of…of FELINES, and I’m the heartthrob of-GET THOSE AWAY FROM ME!”  
And thus, Kuroo continued to laugh his ass off at Oikawa’s obvious cat phobia.  
—  
“Everyone, meet Kenma~”  
Kuroo was in an unusually good mood today, while Oikawa was still plotting of revenge against his mortal childhood friend. He’d taken Kenma up to Mount Olympus. Everyone had had to get rid of their godly forms for now, and look like humans.  
“Hi, Kenma,” greeted Oikawa. “Do you know how to get revenge on mortals?”  
“Hm,” muttered Kenma. “I’m not good with people. I don’t know. Sorry.” He pressed buttons on-what did humans call it? oh yes, a //gamer//-and his face lit up with the most emotion Oikawa had seen since coming up. “Kuro, I won.”  
“Kuro?” mouthed Oikawa.  
“Save the jokes,” said Kuroo-oh, sorry, Kuro-leaning on Kenma for support, who immediately muttered, “Kuro, that hurts.”  
They were comfortable with each other and that much was obvious. Romances between gods and mortals rarely lasted, and Oikawa could sense a strong relationship between the two. He only hoped Kuroo-Kuro wouldn’t come whining to him later. Eh.  
“Kenma, pleaseeeeeee? What are the weaknesses of mortals?”  
“Stop bothering him, Oikawa,” said Kuroo-Kuro.   
Kenma, however, seemed interested, and Oikawa smirked at Kuroo when the quiet boy raised his head. “Weaknesses?” He frowned down at his gamer, pressed a few buttons and then looked back up. “Um, I think everyone is scared of dying. And boring things.”  
Oikawa nodded. “What else?”  
“When humans fall in love, that’s a weakness,” said Kenma. “And we also…we have a lot of fears…I guess…you just need to figure the fears out…then you can manipulate us.” He shrugged. “Like I said…we die easily and so that’s a weakness, like I said…we get triggered easily…” He didn’t seem to care anymore, and so he pressed a few more buttons on his game boy and sat down on the floor. Kuroo dropped to his knees and put his chin on Kenma’s shoulder, asking him the occasional question about the game, and Kenma seemed happy to answer them, a small, hardly detectable smile on his face.  
And Oikawa watched them, thinking //thank you, Kenma-chan// because now, now he could figure out how to make Iwa-chan pay!  
—  
Kenma only left hours later. Kuroo, of course, insisted on accompanying him out, to which Oikawa rolled his eyes. They were so lovey dovey and stuff! It was really very annoying. He frowned, and waited for Kuroo to come back up to help him come up with the prank.  
Of course, Kuroo took forever to come up, and his hair was mussed when he did, a huge grin stretched across his face.  
“Kuroo-Kuro–“  
“Shut up. What is it?”  
“Kenma has good interpretation on weaknesses. How can I hurt Iwa-chan?”  
“Hurt him?” echoed Kuroo. “Do you really want to hurt him?”  
“I told you, I want revenge,” whined Oikawa, being a bratty little kid. "I want to make him despairrrrr!”  
“…you’ve been watching too much Danganronpa anime. Please tell me you didn’t buy the video ga-“  
“Kuroo, how do you mix death, love, fear, boredom and triggers?”  
“Kiss him, then kill him,” said Kuroo, yawning and taking a seat on his throne.   
“Maybe I can make him suffer,” said Oikawa thoughtfully. “But then he might punch me. I’d never…kill…Iwa-chan, though. Do you think maybe I could kiss him then break his heart? I bet he’s never kissed anyone before, the ugly brute he is. I can take his first kiss and all!”  
“Ah, don’t assume things,” said Kuroo. “Kenma’s kissed lots of people.”  
“…video game figurines?”  
“How did you guess?”  
Oikawa laughed loudly, before drooping again. “I don’t…really…want to hurt Iwa-chan. How about a harmless prank?”  
“Knowing you, a harmless prank WOULD hurt Iwa-chan.”  
“Don’t be silly, Kuroo-Kuro~”  
“I told you not to call me that!”  
“Then don’t call Iwa-chan Iwa-chan.”  
“You are such trash.”  
“That’s really rich coming from you, Kuroo-Kuro-chan!”  
“I hate you.”  
“You love me, really.”  
“I love you about as much as Iwa-chan does. Not at all.”  
“Iwa-chan loves me! Anyway, why are we TALKING about that, Kuroo-Kuro-chan?! We’re supposed to be coming up with a way to make Iwa-chan PAY, right?”  
“Yeah…how about you just make him sick? Then kiss him.”  
“Kuroo-Kuro-chan! I don’t liiiiikkeeeeee him like that!”  
“Your girly attitude says otherwise and you disgust me.”  
“…thanks, Mr. I-flirt-with-my-otaku-boyfriend.”  
“He’s not an otaku. Or my boyfriend.”  
“Your girly attitude says otherwise and you disgust me.”  
“I’m starting to get why your darling Iwa-chan hates you so much."  
"Why is everyone so mean?" said Oikawa, pouting.  
"Don't worry, it's not without reason."  
"Mean!" Then a small pause. "What type of sickness should I give Iwa-chan?"  
"Hell if I know. Something not life threatening, maybe the flu or vomiting."  
"I'm scared I'll regret it..."  
"Then don't do it."  
"But I wannnnnaaaaaa...."  
"Make your fucking mind up already."  
"I guess I can give him the flu or something..."  
"Good choice. Then he won't totally murder you."  
"Iwa-chan wouldn't murder me! I think!"  
"I think."  
"I'm almost sure!"  
"You're a god, you can't be murdered. Use your brain," said Kuroo, shaking his head. "Don't you have a brain?"  
"I don't need one, I have power~"  
—  
Iwaizumi Hajime woke up feeling like trash.  
His first thought was, oh crap I can't play volleyball today.  
His second thought was, I bet this trashy god did this.  
After all, Iwaizumi had a good sense of instinct, and also a totally unfair habit of blaming Oikawa for anything that happened in the universe. It did make sense that the first person he would get mad at was Oikawa, because Oikawa tended to piss him off every time he could, and it was such an Oikawa thing to do anyway.  
Iwaizumi's suspicions were proven when he saw that piece of trash standing over his head, only seconds after he woke up. Assikawa, of course, was a god, and of course had the ability to do that kind of shit - basically, he could materialise out of nowhere.  
It creeped Iwaizumi out, and apparently he said that out loud because the next thing he could hear was ringings of "mean!"  
"Did you do this?" interrupted Iwaizumi in the middle of one of Oikawa's, "so meannnnnn, Iwa-channn!"  
"Well," the god scratched the back of his head. "Does it really hurt and would you murder me if you said I did it?"  
"Yes."  
"Then no, I didn't do it."  
"Assikawa."  
"Mhmmmmmm?"  
"Don't take this the wrong way, but I want you to di-" He coughed loudly into his arm, and Oikawa suddenly felt bad, not a usual emotion for a god.  
"Do you feel really sick, Iwa-chan?" said Oikawa, regretting the hours he spent plotting Iwaizumi's death with Kuroo by his side.  
"Ye-" Iwaizumi's words were quickly stifled by his coughing, and he dove under the sheets.  
When he emerged, his face was pale and vulnerable and not Iwa-chan at all and Oikawa was thinking that this was wrong so very wrong because this wasn't Iwa-chan, and why the hell would Oikawa want to get revenge on Iwa-chan in the first place because he was SUCH A CUTE MORTAL and-  
"Oikawa," Iwaizumi interrupted his thoughts. "Don't worry about it."  
Oikawa's eyes lit up, but he started sniffling. "You're so kind and I'm so meannnn, Iwa-chan! How could I manipulate my powers like this? Romeo, oh Romeo, where art thou-"  
"Shut up or I'll punch you," managed Iwaizumi, though he didn't look nearly in good enough condition to throw a punch at his best friend. "You are such a bad god, you know that?"  
"I'm really sorry, Iwa-chan," Oikawa said, lying down next to the player. "When you're better, can you teach me about how to play that sport volleyball?"  
"Yeah," murmured Iwaizumi, closing his eyes.  
Then they shot open. "Wait. If you had the power to make me si-" he coughed, and then continued, "...sick, then can't you make me better?"  
"Oh yeah!" Oikawa grinned widely, closed his eyes, and Iwaizumi sat up, in amazement at how he felt now.  
And Oikawa could almost feel Kuroo laughing at him from Mount Olympus, thinking things like "your plans always fail", and "you're a sucker for your Iwa-chan, aren't you."


	10. Day 10: Cultural Festival (Indie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Senpai you better be happy that you have such a fabulous senpai that writes your stories for you when you slack off.  
> Eh this is worse than usual but this was yesterday's prompt so I wrote it at 5am in 20 minutes. Enjoy.

The day was sunny, and Oikawa vaguely wondered what he was doing at a festival.  
He was thinking, "wasn't I back at Vin-vin-kin-kin-bin-bin's house drinking beer" and then realisation hits him like a slap in the face.  
Someone had taken the beer away. Someone...had dragged him here.  
Oikawa had looked up when the sexy man who took his beer crossed his path, giggling loudly. "Happy mornings, kind sir! What may I do for you?" and the man, his face stony, had dragged him here.  
Oikawa yawned into his palm. Now he knew what happens, but why did he feel so giddy? He shook, and tapped someone on the shoulder. "Veeeeeeeeehhhh....excuse meee, kind sir, but could you possibly tell me where to find hot policeman and why I'm heree?"  
"Jesus Christ," said the lady he'd tapped, and quickly ran away, making Oikawa frown.  
Ehhh, she was probably drunk and didn't want to see his beautiful face. He'd try again.  
Like, tomorrow.  
-  
The next day, Oikawa Tooru woke up with a splitting headache.  
He groaned, and put his hands to his face. He could just barely remember meeting some policeman, being dragged to a festival, and sort of - kind of - harassing a woman by talking to her in his drunken state.  
/My parents are going to kill me,/ was his first thought.  
/Hot damn I need to find that policeman and give him my number,/ was his second.  
And so he leaped out of bed, a huge grin on his face, and rushed out of bed to find that bar again and ohhhhh crap, he was in his pyjamas.  
Rush up again, rush down again, repeat, go find sexy policeman who he has no idea about except that they had to have known each other, right, because why else would he help Tooru when he was inebriated?  
For that matter, why would he, for no reason at all, be guarding a bar? What if that was his nightly shift and Oikawa had to wait until night to see him crapcrapcrap, no, Oikawa needed to see him right away, because that policeman was-  
"How can I he-AGH! Assikawa!?"  
Oikawa slowly turned.  
Ah, yes, the policeman, who happened to be Oikawa Tooru's childhood friend, Iwaizumi Hajime.  
"I'm totally screwed," Oikawa announced to himself, and groaned. Very, very loudly.  
"Screwed?" Iwaizumi frowned. "Listen, Oikawa-"  
"WaaaAIT A SEC, IWA-CHANNNN! I didn't get to ask you anything yet!"  
"Knowing you, I know what you'll ask, but go ahead," Iwaizumi sighed.  
"Yayy, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa pumped his fist. "Since when are you a policeman?"  
"Since when do you come to bars late at night?" retorted the spiker.  
"Why did you drag me a festival?"  
"/Since when do you come to bars late at night?/"  
"Jeez, Iwa-chan, so impatient," sighed Oikawa. "My girlfriend broke up with me."  
"Oh," muttered Iwaizumi. "Wait, you had a girlfriend-"  
"Why did you drag me to a festival and since whennnn are you a policemannnn, Iwaaaa-channn?"  
"You do know that you sound like a whiny little shit, right?" Iwaizumi said. "I decided to be a policeman because why the hell not?"  
Oikawa opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, trying to hold back laughing.  
"/And/," went on Iwaizumi, glaring daggers at Oikawa, "I dragged you to a festival because that was opening night. There's also going to be a cultural festival tonight. Wear your kimono."  
"Awwwww, you wanna see me in a kimono? How ho-"  
And Oikawa was elbowed in the arm, so he kneeled over clutching it and yelling, "So violent, Iwa-chan!"  
"...wear your goddamn kimono."  
"Too violent!"  
-  
And so the policeman and the probably-soon-to-be-fugitive left for a cultural festival.  
"Iwa-chan, why did you tell me to wear a kimono where you're not wearing one?" pouted Oikawa.  
"Everyone likes a pretty boy in a kimono. Don't ask stupid questions."  
"Awhhhh, you think I'm pretty, Iwa-channnn? That's so flattering!"  
"Shut up, you annoying nightmare."  
"Meanie!" They walked into the festival, and Oikawa immediately took Iwaizumi's wrist and dragged him to the amazake stand. "Amaaaazaaaakeeeeeeeeeeee," he sang loudly. "Ama-ama-amaaaaaaazaaaakeeeeeee."  
"I swear I'll hit you-"  
"AMAZAKE! MY LOVE! MY LIFE!"  
"Go to hell, Assikawa!"  
-  
"And will Oikawa Tooru at amazake stand B come and collect a prize for prettiest in a kimono?"  
An hour later, and they were still looking for a kind of amazake that Oikawa would like, being the unsatisfied brat he was.  
Oikawa's head snapped up. "UWaaaaaaaaa? Prettiest? I feel so spe-"  
"Don't be, it's kind of obvious you were going to win that, dumbass," muttered Iwaizumi as Oikawa took the amazake and left.  
"Thanks, Iwa-chan," said Oikawa. He grinned and then bent over and ruffled Iwaizumi's hair. "I know you love me that much!"  
"Wh-COME BACK HERE, I'LL HIT YOU!"  
But Oikawa was long gone, collecting a prize for being pretty. Asshole.


	11. Day 11: Iwaizumi is Impressed (Indie)

Little kids.  
Iwaizumi and Oikawa; seven year olds from Japan, met in a volleyball club for Little Tykes. One with the worst personality imaginable, one with a seemingly permanent frown.  
And they stuck together perfectly, sunshine and rain and whatever else makes the world go round; seven year olds who threw volleyballs at each other and laughed and made those seven year old girls squeal their heads off; inseparable friends, a bond thicker than blood, and at first glance, you would never see how much they fit together.  
And together, they went on adventures, mostly adventures Oikawa would choose and whine about.  
Today, it was weddings.  
"No way, dumbass!" spluttered Iwaizumi. "We can't get married! That's for old people!"  
Tooru pouted. "Please, Hajime-chan! Mr. Alien here can be the piest!"  
"Piest?" frowned Hajime. "D'you mean priest?" He sniggered and pointed at the stuffed animal Tooru would use as the priest.  
"Whoever does the prayers 'n stuff," said Tooru dismissively.   
"You obviously know your stuff," mumbled Hajime sarcastically, causing Tooru to stick his tongue out.  
"Trust me, Hajime! My mummy says I'll be a wedding planner when I grow up."  
Hajime sniggered into his palm, and Tooru's frown got bigger. "I'll kick you, Hajimeeee-chan!"  
"Try it," said Iwaizumi threateningly and Tooru yelped, backing off and yelling the words, "evil!"  
"Can you be my wife, Hajime-chan?" said Tooru once he was far away enough from his best friend to run if he needed to.  
And surprisingly, Hajime Iwaizumi didn't protest. He nodded his head in assent, and Tooru's eyes leaped up, and he ran to his best friend, throwing his arms around the meanie boy.  
"I love you, Hajime-chan! This'll be the bestest wedding ever!"  
Iwaizumi stilled for a second, before returning the hug and muttering, "Of course, dumbass."  
-  
"Motherrrrrrr, I need blue flowers! Glow in the dark ones!"  
Mrs. Oikawa dropped her spoon and looked up at her young son. "Come again?"  
"I'm marrying Hajime!" said Tooru brightly, "and all the aliens in the world have to come to the wedding, so you gotta get glow in the dark flowers!"  
Oikawa's sister dropped his spoon, muttered, "Dear jesus, I'm out of here," while Mrs. Oikawa quietly laughed.   
"Motherrrrrr, are you listening?" whined Tooru, stamping his little feet. "You need to help me. I don't want Hajime to get remarried."  
"My family is a mental zoo," mumbled Oikawa's sister. "Good night."  
She left the room, followed by Mrs. Oikawa's light laughter and Tooru's whines, begging for wedding help.  
-  
"Mama," said Hajime, blinking at his mother. "I'm getting married to Tooru?"  
Ms. Iwaizumi's head jerked forward. "Whhhhh?"  
"He's making me marry him," mumbled Hajime. "I don't mind that much. He says it's going to be the best wedding ever..."  
And, of course, parents across the world internally screamed, "I SHIP IT."  
-  
"Iwa-chan, what kind of dress do you want?"  
Hajime shrugged and looked around, seemingly embarrassed about the prospect of wearing a dress.  
"Something cute!" said Tooru playfully. "I want a pretty bride! Also, I told mummy that I want glow in the dark blue flowers!"  
And Iwaizumi blinked at his friends, eyes wide, impressed at all the lengths his lame alien nerd friend had taken to set up the best wedding.  
-  
"My mummy said that when you marry someone, you get bored of them. You won't get bored of me, will you, Hajime?"  
-  
"I ordered the dress," said Tooru. "My mother paid and everything."  
"What colour?" asked Hajime.  
"It's green. Like an alien."  
"DUMBASS! I wanted brown!"  
"Wah, Hajime-chan, you're so mean! Worst bride ever!"  
"Worst husband ever."  
-  
"Mummmmm, why can't we find blue glow in the dark flowers?"  
"I'm sorry, Tooru. Usually, flowers don't glow in the dark, so it's no surprise that they don't here either."  
"But-but-" Tooru looked through the aisles of flowers, different shapes and flowers, some beautiful and some droopy. The drooping ones, honestly, were mostly the ones with dark colours some considered evil; black, like night, brown, like...well, brown was generally associated as disgusting, though it was Iwaizumi's favorite colour, and Oikawa Tooru liked that, because after all, he wanted an original wife, and even by strange standards, Iwaizumi was original.  
"Can you get brown flowers?"  
"Nice choice, Tooru."  
-  
They were watching anime at Iwaizumi's house.  
"Hajime-chan," announced Oikawa as Kuroko passed a ball to Kagami in the anime, "I got brown flowers."  
Iwaizumi stared, feeling as touched as...well, a seven year old could.  
"Thank you, Assikawa."  
"The Assikawa wasn't necessary...Hajime-chan."  
"Thanks, erm, Tooru."  
"You're welcome, Hajime. Now we just need to teach Mr. Alien-chan to speak English."  
"Stuffed toys don't talk, Assikawa."  
"Please call me Tooru, Hajime-chan."  
"Stuffed toys...don't talk. Tooru."  
"I really can't wait to marry you, Hajime."  
"Don't say stuff like that, Tooru!"  
-  
"I brought my mini radio, Hajime-chan! I also got..." Tooru rummaged through his bag... "Some rings..." He dropped rings, made of string and rubber, obviously by Tooru, onto the ground. "And cake." He took out two cupcakes, decorated with sloppy frosting, red letters that spelled 'I love you, Hajime!'  
"Now you should go get dressed," Tooru informed his best friend, flinging the blue dress at him. "I'll wear dad's suit."  
"/Fine,/" grumbled Hajime, and he left to his house to get changed.  
-  
"HERE COMES THE BRIDE," blared the mini radio.  
Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime looked ridiculous.  
Oikawa, in his dad's way too big suit, tripped over his legs too many times for it to be considered natural.  
Iwaizumi....well, apparently long, sexy, blue dresses weren't made for seven year olds who planned to get married to their best friends.  
Somehow, minutes later, they managed to make it to the table where Mr. Alien sat waiting, Tooru's sister under the table, ready to mime.  
"Do you take Tooru Oikawa as your lawful, uhm, husband?" squeaked Tooru's sister.  
"No," grumbled Hajime.  
"Nice one, Hajime-chan," sniggered Oikawa's sister, apparently forgetting she was supposed to be miming as Oikawa's beloved alien toy.  
"Bad one, Hajime," whined Tooru. "Say 'I do'!"  
"I do."  
"Okay. Tooru Oikawa, do you take Hajime as your....lawful........well.....husband-wife?"  
"I do," said Oikawa, trying to sound sappy.  
"Okay," said Tooru's sister, at this point trying not to burst out laughing. "You may kiss the bride."  
And Tooru pulled Hajime closer and kissed his cheek, slipping those homemade rings on each of their fingers.  
Then they went to get cake.  
-  
Years later, Hajime and Tooru sat down together after winning an easy volleyball match.  
"Hey, Oikawa," said Iwaizumi suddenly. "Did you know I used to be impressed with your wedding planning skills?"  
"Eh?" laughed Oikawa. "Oh god, yes, we got married, didn't we?"  
"I don't know how you got me to agree to that, but I know one thing, Assikawa, you should be a volleyball player and ditch the idea of ever being a wedding planner."  
"I thought you were impressed with my skills, Iwa-chan!"  
"Not anymore, Assikawa."  
"Call me Tooru."  
"Tooru."


	12. Day 12: Arm Wrestling (Nick)

Oikawa Tooru has nice hands. Everyone who's ever seen them could agree. His palms were beautifully round, his fingers long and thin, and his skin never seemed to dry on the cold wind. Whether they were serving a ball, curling around a cup or dancing over the piano keys, nobody could deny the grace.   
That's why, of course, Iwaizumi uses as many indirect excuses to hold them, whenever he can, all while staying his beautiful tsundere self.   
So, without Oikawa actually being aware of it, they had quite a few hand-related traditions as children; Iwaizumi had told him that if you don't hold your friend's hand while you swing on the swingset, you'll die, or how aliens generally hate people who don't let their best friends kiss their fingers and hold their hands in their lap. All those little habits died out as they got older, except for one.

They solved all their little brawls in arm wrestling.

In the first few years since they started that, Iwaizumi was always winning. Although he was a tint shorter than Tooru for as long as he can remember, he was better built and stronger physically, while his best friend was a delicate flower who never had scrapped knees or needed a band aid.  
Although, as years passed and Oikawa started getting better at volleyball, more and more lean muscles would appear on his body every time Hajime caught a glimpse in the changing room after practice. Not that he looked.   
It was kind of hard, though. His best friend was becoming a catch and a half and it always worried him subconsciously.   
Back to arm wrestling.  
The very first time was probably that one time Oikawa wanted to organize his birthday party - and everyone knew that meant inviting all the girls in the neighborhood and a lot of pink balloons to please them all. They were maybe eight, and Iwaizumi was just about to break down under the pressure of those curls and that smile and those eyes when Tooru suggested they settled it like men. Back then, Hajime had pointed out that they were children and boxing was absolutely out of the question, so they ended up hand in hand, letting out little growls over the garden table because neither party wanted to surrender. That day, Hajime had won, and they spent his birthday alone, eating cake in the back yard and catching butterflies.   
Soon it became a ritual - Oikawa wanted a soda, arm wrestling. Iwaizumi wanted to stay late after practice - arm wresling. Oikawa wanted to smooch in the back of the classroom - headbutting. That was not open for discussion in the first place.  
Except, soon Oikawa began winning from a time to time. Hajime never forgot that one time they wrestled for going to the rollercoaster, and he lost, and ended up clinging to Tooru as he screamed. Funny for a spiker, whose profession bases on jumping, to be afraid of heights, Oikawa had told him. He replied that he wasn't afraid of heights, but his guts slipping out and spilling all over the seat which he couldn't pay to clean. 

Once they moved in together in high school, arm wrestling became an everyday activity. Who'll cook (or, most likely, pay for takeout food), clean, get the groceries. It was fair, because Oikawa had grown and they were pretty much on equal ground now. Living with Tooru was a blessing and a curse; he was always there, a neverending presence on his couch, eating his snacks and talking too much and never allowing him to feel lonely.In the summer of their third year, after finishing high school and getting ready for college, Oikawa had left to spend it in Europe with his parents and sister. Three months of break they had, he spent alone in their apartment, looking at pictures and stupid alien films and sometimes going out to meet Kindaichi or Matsukawa, drinking away loneliness and patiently ( or not ) awaiting for the pain in his heart to be once again replaced with a metaphorical pain in his ass which was Oikawa in general. He never knew he loved the mess on the carpet which appeared whenever Oikawa was camping on the living room floor consisted of spilled beer, nacho dip and the remote, loved the towel Oikawa always, /always/ left on the floor after he showered instead of putting it in the washer, how he piled up clothes on the chair in his room and then bring a mountain for the wash on the weekend. He couldn't remember when he started missing the feeling of that pretty hand on his own, trying to press it down to the table with such passion in order to win the remote or not carry out the garbage. He didn't even know who to be all on his own, because before, he never really was.   
That's why, in September, he drove to the airport to wait up for him.   
It was raining that day, pouring actually. He heard the water harass his car's roof as he drove trough the unfamilar side of their city.   
Waiting for the plane to land had indeed been torture, they're somehow always slower than you'd expect. Passengers exited, talking excitedly about exploring a new city, or perhaps coming back home. Hajime's eyes danced over the crowd, looking for familiar curls and that radiant aura nobody could escape.

He wasn't there. 

All the worst case scenarios ran trough Iwaizumi's mind that instant - he had fallen off an Italian bridge into the rivers of Venice, he had fallen off of the Eiffel tower, he had fallen into the La Manche whilst going to the UK, fell onto the spike of Big Ben, got ran over by a drunk cabbie, robbed harassed and killed in some alleyway nobody ever knew about and nobody now remembers and he'll never, never, never clean nacho dip off the carpet or refuse to get a cat or hit that toss ever, ever again and who will he arm wrestle now? Who will annoy him? Who will tell him he's an ugly brute but a loveable ugly brute when he needs to hear it the most?

He felt long, graceful fingers wrap around his head from his back, covering his eyes as he could smell that familiar scent of lemon scented shampoo and chocolate flavored aftershave along with the smell of the rain which now drenched his clothes and made his body slightly shiver.   
"Guess whooooooo?", a happy, wonderful wonderful voice chipped from his behind, and Hajime felt that his whole world was suddenly okay again.  
"You're annoying", he mumbled, and perhaps all the water on his face now wasn't purely from the rain.   
"You still came", Oikawa was quick to reply, turning himself towards his friend and wrapping him up in a wet, wet hug.   
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he hugged back and tilted his head upwards ever so lightly to press their lips together.  
He could feel the water from Tooru's bangs drip onto his nose, he could feel his fists tightening around his completely wet shirt and, most importantly, he could feel him and smell him and taste him and there was also a unfamilar taste alongside the notes of breath mints and apple chewing hum, perhaps plane food. His lips were slightly chapped, not as soft as usual, probably from the change of climate.   
The world around them didn't exist as they kissed, the passengers didn't matter and Oikawa's family was lost somewhere in the crowd, and the airport staff buzzing around them and a puppy that ran by them, probably towards his owner.   
"Let's go home", Iwaizumi mumbled against his lips after a small infinity has passed.  
A smile appeared on the other's face as he wrapped those dreamy fingers around his, as if he knew where Hajime had parked in the first place.   
That day, they didn't wrestle over who'll drive.

 

The next morning, however, was filled with high voices over Oikawa who had burned the bacon and a series of Oh my God, Iwa-chan, you can't give me a night like THAT and then expect me not to think about it in the morning, and You're a moron, an absolute idiot with absolutely no abilities in any field whatsoever and a single You love me anyway, which wasn't followed by a protest.  
However, it was followed by elbows slammed on the table and hand in hand connections and arm muscles tightening because wow, somebody needed to make a new breakfast.


	13. Day 13: Indirect Kiss (Indie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is kind of a crack-ish story and I didn't know what the hell I was doing so. sorry 'bout that

When Iwaizumi and Oikawa were children of only six, they would play all kinds of games, mostly ones that Oikawa would choose.  
Oikawa’s favourite game, it was quite apparent to see, was a game of his own invention, a game not many others played, and he called it Indirect Kiss.  
Unfortunately, it was exactly what it sounded like. Oikawa would kiss something; then he’d tell Iwaizumi to kiss it too.  
The main objective of the game was: “make Iwa-chan look like an idiot by making him kiss something I kissed, then laugh in his face and say that this is called an indirect kiss.”  
Oikawa Tooru had received one too many slaps every time he fooled Iwaizumi into indirect kissing him, but oddly enough, soon Iwaizumi didn’t seem to mind. He’d still moan and complain, being a total meanie and annoying, but he would obediently kiss whatever Oikawa did.  
It went on as the friends grew older together. Oikawa would kiss whatever he could; what the hell, he’d even kiss girls, and shove Iwaizumi at the same girls, and whenever that happened, Oikawa had to count his prayers, because for the love of hell, Iwaizumi would kill him.  
But the game was exactly that: a game. Just a very silly game that Iwaizumi’s asshole of a best friend had come up with when he was bored. Both Iwaizumi and Oikawa just figured it was one of their childhood memories that continued.  
And that was why Iwaizumi was so shocked when he kissed Oikawa’s fingertips and felt his heart flip over but /what the hell what the hell what was this new feeling./  
Iwaizumi didn’t like it. He’d never felt like this; not while playing lame ass games with his childhood friend, anyway. This game was such tradition, it hadn’t seemed to matter so much, not until now.  
And Iwaizumi, being like any other 17 year old hormonal male, went to ask the rest of his teammates. After all, he was a very dense person, not understanding what the hell he’d felt after kissing Oikawa’s pretty hands.  
And thus, the story of Iwaizumi angsting over his best friend begins.  
—  
“Kindaichi, I want advice.”  
Kindaichi dropped the volleyball he’d been holding, flustered, and knelt to pick it up. “Erm, yes, Iwaizumi-senpai?” he muttered, picking up the ball and turning. For a reason Iwaizumi had never understood, Kindaichi always seemed sort of…weird around him. Cute—he acted like a little child, honestly, but always flustered and dropping things, for reasons Iwaizumi would probably never figure out, considering how dense he was.  
Iwaizumi sighed loudly. Kindaichi was a good kid, but it was weird going to his kouhai on help over something so ridiculous, involving OIKAWA of all things.  
“Well,” said Iwaizumi. “Uhm.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, not knowing why he would be so nervous to ask a question. “I wanted to as—“  
“Iwaizumi, we’re hurt!”  
“Oh my god,” muttered Iwaizumi. “Did you two have to show up?”  
“It’s not just us,” said Hanamaki, his elbow on Matsukawa’s shoulder. “The whole team is here to advise you. Except for Oikawa. He’s somewhere with his girlfriend. Boringggggggg.”  
Once again, Iwaizumi’s heart rate sped up. “What girlfriend?” he said.  
“Someone,” said Matsukawa. “We don’t keep track of all of them.” The two assholes smirked, then walked inside; Kunimi, Watari, Yahaba and Kyoutani followed.  
“Why are you all here?” said Iwaizumi. “I wanted to talk to Kindaichi. If I complain to you idiots about my problems, you’ll just tell the whole world.”  
“My, oh my, you don’t take us for nice people, do you?” Hanamaki and Matsukawa exchanged smirks again, smirks that Iwaizumi kind of wanted to just punch off of their stupid faces.  
“SO, LIKE,” said Hanamaki loudly, making his voice high and squeaky, “What’s the big news? SPILL!”  
Kunimi sniggered into his hand.  
“I hate my team,” mumbled Iwaizumi. “Okay…uhmmm…” He made a quick decision in his head; might as well tell them, no reason not to. “Me and Oikawa have this game…”  
Hanamaki leaned forwards, his eyes glittering. “Go onnnn,” he sang.  
“…called Indirect Kiss…” finished Iwaizumi, slightly ashamed to tell his team about the game that the idiotic captain created. “And basically, what we do is, uh, Oikawa kisses something, and then forces me to kiss it too, and today, it was his fingers.”  
“Awwwwwwhhh,” chorused Matsukawa and Hanamaki, and Iwaizumi Hajime had to resist the urge to /fucking murder those brats./  
“It…” he paused. “Felt kind of nice…”  
A confused silence fell upon the members of the Seijou volleyball team.  
Well, to say silence would be wrong. It couldn’t be quite considered a silence, because Matsukawa and Hanamaki were whispering things to each other, shit-eating grins on their faces.  
Ah, how nice these two would look dead. A second after he had that thought, he realised that he really did sound like a mass murderer, so he didn’t voice it. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, “So? Do you know what it means?”  
“Means?” echoed Kindaichi. “Iwaizumi-senpai, are you—“  
“Are you shitting us?” said Kyoutani in disbelief, earning a glare from Yahaba, who muttered, “Kyoutani, be respectful to your senpai, I told you.”  
Hanamaki shook his head in disbelief, and he and Matsukawa surrounded Iwaizumi from both sides, throwing their arms around him.  
“Iwaizumi,” said Hanamaki very slowly, “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”  
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” snapped Iwaizumi. “You know the fucking answer to that.”  
“So, no,” said Matsukawa thoughtfully. “Let’s not disown him then, Hanamaki. It just means he has zero experience, so let’s break it to him slowly.”  
Hanamaki nodded in agreement and patted Iwaizumi’s back sympathetically. “Iwaizumi. Have you ever felt kind of dizzy around your object of affection?”  
“What the fuck?” said Iwaizumi, slowly inching away.  
“Do you ever actually mind kissing what Oikawa kisses?” said Matsukawa.  
“I used to, but it’s kind of a habit now,” grumbled Iwaizumi.  
Hanamaki nodded, whipping out a notebook from his pocket. “Do you ever get dokis around Oikawa?”  
“I swear I’m going to k—“  
“Have you ever felt jealous of Oikawa’s girlfriends?”  
“Sometimes, but—“  
“Why are you only answering HIS questions?” whined Hanamaki.  
“Because you make me want to break something,” said Iwaizumi.  
“You have such bad anger issues! And me and Matsukawa were just trying to gently break it to you that you have a massive crush on Oikawa, too,” muttered Hanamaki.  
“…wait, WHAT?”  
“You have a crush on Oikawa, Iwaizumi-senpai,” supplied Kunimi helpfully, ignoring Kindaichi’s stuttering noises and Watari’s vaguely amused laughter from the background.  
“I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME,” glared Iwaizumi.  
“Now, Iwaizumi, we’ll be a very supportive, loving team and accept you, despite your taste—“  
“Hold on!” interrupted Iwaizumi. “I don’t have a crush on Oikawa!”  
“Unfortunately, you do,” said Hanamaki. “If it helps, I think he has a crush on you too…? It’s pretty obvious—“  
“Die.”  
—  
“Kiss it, Iwa-chan~”  
“No.”  
“Wait, WHAT?”  
Oikawa Tooru was clearly upset. Something was going on with his Iwa-chan! He’d refused to kiss anything that Oikawa even touched that day!  
“Why don’t you want to kiss anything I kisssssss, Iwa-channnnnn?”  
“That game is weird anyone,” muttered Iwaizumi. “I don’t want to play it anymore.”  
Oikawa’s eyes bugged out of his head. “HUHHHH?” He was about to annoy Iwaizumi about it some more, but— “Makki, Mattsun! Come join us!”  
“Ah, fuck,” muttered Hanamaki, who had been spying on the two friends from behind a wall with Matsukawa. “There was so much sexual tension,” he said to Matsukawa, before grabbing his hand and leading him to Oikawa and Iwaizumi. “What’s up, guys?”  
“Iwa-chan won’t kiss the places I kissed!” whined Oikawa, giving Iwaizumi a strong urge to either kiss him or kill him.  
“Ohhhh?” said Hanamaki. “I wonder why! Iwaizumi, darling, why won’t you indirect kiss our captain?”  
“What do you mean, darling?” said Oikawa loudly.  
“Oh, Iwaizumi and I are dating,” said Hanamaki, lacing his fingers with Iwaizumi’s, who’s eyes perfectly conveyed the message, “/I will fucking kill you./“  
“I need the bathroom,” mumbled Matsukawa, and took off, biting his lip so hard it bled to stop himself from laughing.  
“WHAT?” Oikawa’s eyes widened. “You-M-Makki! Iwa-chan! I-I’m…” he trailed off. “I’m so proud of you, children,” he said, not sounding as proud as he said. “G-good luck in your relationship…” It seemed like it caused him physical pain to say it, and he walked away, his back drooping.  
As soon as Oikawa was out of earshot, Iwaizumi’s fists clenched and he hissed, “WHAT WAS THAT, YOU LITTLE SHIT?”  
“Go after him and comfort him,” Hanamaki drawled as though he was not the /actual spawn of Satan./  
“You’ll pay, Hanamaki,” muttered Iwaizumi. /Worst matchmaker ever./  
And he ran after his best friend to assure him that he wasn’t dating Hanamaki.

Of course, Oikawa looked back.  
Oikawa always looked back when it came to Iwaizumi, no matter what. Whether they had just lost a match, won a match, kissed a girl, had a fight, whatever, Oikawa would always, always look back and he would not look to the front again until the two had sorted out whatever they need to.  
After all, Oikawa was a straightforward person like that.  
And so he looked back, his eyes strangely glassy. “Iwa-channnn?”  
“I’m not dating Hanamaki,” said the spiker simply. “Kiss something.”  
“Ehhhhhhhh? Iwa-channnnnn?”  
“Kiss something before I regret ever joining the volleyball club and meeting you in Kindergarden.”  
“Mean!” Oikawa bent down. “Get down here, Iwa-channn~”  
“Huh?” Iwaizumi dropped to the floor obediently, and Oikawa, smiling mischievously, kissed his own hand and held it out.  
And so Iwaizumi kissed it too, because that was how Indirect Kiss worked, after all.  
“Iwa-chan, you forgot to say ‘will you marry me’.”  
“I’LL HIT YOU!”  
Oikawa just laughed.  
—  
Iwaizumi Hajime had come to terms with the fact that he was probably totally in love with his setter and also that there was nothing he could do about it. Oikawa continued to make him play Indirect Kiss; Hanamaki and Matsukawa continued to tease him. Iwaizumi vowed to himself that if he ever ended up in a relationship with Oikawa Tooru, he and Oikawa would make these idiots pay, hopefully by trying to make THEM kiss and fall in love.  
Startled, Iwaizumi realised what he’d just thought: /if he ever ended up in a relationship with Oikawa Tooru/…that wouldn’t happen though, of course it wouldn’t. Oikawa and his girlfriend, were, after all, still together, oddly enough. Oikawa usually didn’t keep a girl for longer than two days, especially ever since he was dumped for being more obsessed with volleyball than obsessed with the girl herself.  
And as if on cue, Oikawa appeared…seemingly out of nowhere.  
“Iwa-chan,” he said, and Iwaizumi turned, ready to headbutt the male if he was annoying about anything at any point.  
“Iwa-channnn,” he repeated. “Me and my girlfriend broke up. Cheer me up.”  
“I don’t exist to make you happy, Assikawa,” said Iwaizumi, and he was interrupted by the setter pressing his lips to Iwaizumi’s. Dazed, Iwaizumi pulled away.  
“You /do/ exist to make me happy, Iwa-chan,” said Oikawa, batting his eyelashes and grabbing Iwaizumi’s wrist. “And since you love me so much, that shouldn’t upset you.”  
He pulled Iwaizumi away, and somewhere in the distance, Iwaizumi could hear wolf whistles from Hanamaki and Matsukawa.


	14. Day 14: I'll Take Care of You (Nick)

Iwaizumi Hajime was a normal person. He at least thought of himself as such. He was 20, had his own apartment he payed off by working at the local paper at the sports section; he had played some volleyball in high school, nothing major. Even though others would say he lead a pretty lonely life; no girlfriend, no roommate, no friends he went out with, he spent his Friday nights watching documentaries and eating takeout food on his couch, and loves every second of it. There was a time he stayed in touch with some of his friends from high-school, most of which were now in college he didn't attend, he found himself getting more and more distant from humanity in general. Nobody waited at him at home, nobody worried about him when he was sick, nobody made him meals, he did his own laundry. His family stayed behind in a small town, didn't follow him into the city like he followed his dreams to become a professional volleyball player. Of course, they didn't come true, and now he was drowning in the solitude of modern everyday life. An evening phone call from his mother, a couple of texts a week from his working partner, and that was it. Nothing in his life was exciting, nothing in his life was fulfilling. Nothing quite had the same feeling as spiking a toss. He remembered his setter, Yahaba-kun, who he had bugged every day to stay behind practice to toss a few more up just for him. When he finished high school, and decided not to attend college, his volleyball dreams slowly slipped trough his fingers. He settled working for a third class newspaper, leading a quiet life away from others.   
Oh, if he had known how twisted his life would become, he'd call in sick to work that day. Or drive.  
It was raining, not pouring, but enough so he was carrying an umbrella. The streets of his town were empty, grey, but there was a certain beauty in the smell of the rain. Iwaizumi always walked home when it rained, it calmed him. His dark blue Toyota was still parked in front of his office, he didn't live too far away. He was just thinking about his lonesome apartment and how nothing was on TV this evening except some chick flick and a stupid alien movie, when he spot him. Iwaizumi froze in spot and watched.   
He was pushed out of a house, stumbling backwards. He was wearing a black coat which seemed to be thrown on in a hurry, tight grey pants and ankle boots with untied shoelaces; perhaps also thrown on in a hurry. He seemed tall, well-built and he had a messy bunch of brunette hair, from what Iwaizumi could see from the other side of the street, a bit further from the scene, where he was standing. The stranger was waving his hands and yelling at the person inside. Hajime couldn't understand what he was talking about, the rain on his umbrella was too loud, but he seemed upset. Only getting a flash of the person inside, he thought he saw a man about middle age, overweight, and with a moustache. He was also yelling, and then slammed the door shut, leaving the man in the black coat alone on the streets. He slid down the wall of the house he was just thrown out of, curling his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his forearms, slowly getting soaked from the rain. Iwaizumi was probably seeing things, but he thought he saw those shoulders shake a bit, as if the man was sobbing.   
This sudden feeling overcame him, as if nothing would ever be right in the world again if he doesn't approach that stranger. His mind kept screaming it was a bad idea, that it was none of his business, but his legs walked over, and his mouth disobeyed him, opened and said:  
"Excuse me..?"  
The stranger looked up. His eyes were red, he was indeed crying. He was wet by now, and seeing him from the first time up close, Hajime thought that under all those wet bangs and snoot he might actually be really beautiful. Hajime noticed that what he thought was a messy bunch of hair from a distance, were actually carefully groomed brunette curls, which framed his face in such an oddly lovely way. Iwaizumi managed a small smile.  
"Are you alright..?"  
He looked around his age. Probably went to college nearby. He nodded his head, obviously lying.  
"What's your name?" Why was Iwaizumi so persistent?  
"T-Takashi...Takashi Shinji", the man said. He didn't sound sure, maybe he was lying, he couldn't tell. Maybe if he knew how to read him, if they were by some chance childhood friends and not just meeting as adults.   
"Nice to meet you, Takashi-kun. I'm Iwaizumi Hajime."  
"Heh", a tiny smile appeared on that face, and Hajime thought it maybe wasn't completely unattractive, "Iwa-chan."  
An eyebrow rose, but he didn't comment. "Why are you out in the rain, all alone?"  
"Oh, you see...My girlfriend lives here, heh.. We broke up and her dad kicked me out, yeah.. I actually live in Tokyo, and I thought of staying here for a bit, but now I guess I'll need to find some hotel. I don't have any money, though."  
Well, that explains it. It would only be logical he had a girlfriend.   
"You can crash at my place", his mouth disobeyed him again. Bad idea, bad idea, he'll never ever agree, you're so weird, Iwaizumi,ugh.. "You know, to put a hot meal into you, maybe some dry clothes and a blanket? You look like you could use some company, too."  
"You're not some wanted killer, are you?"  
"I promise."  
"I guess some milk bread heated in a microwave wouldn't kill me.."  
"Who microwaves milk bread?!" Hajime's smile was a bit wider as he extended his hand out for Takashi, who took it and pulled himself up, nesting under Iwa's umbrella.   
On the way back Iwaizumi found out he was a fan of alien movies, that he did in fact go to college, that he plays volleyball as a setter in his college, and that he drives a French car usually.   
Once inside, they took their shoes off and Takashi got a lot shyer, as if everything up until now felt natural, and not as if he just went home with a stranger. He sat quietly on the couch and tried to take as little space as possible as Iwaizumi went ahead and heated some milk break and put some water into the tea kettle. He went into his room to find some clothes that may fit the man in his living room, when the black coat caught his eyes. Curiosity killed the ace and he checked the pockets, just to make sure Takashi isn't a serial killer. He found a pack of chewing gum, car keys, a phone and driver's license in the inside pocket. He looked at it and there he was: Takashi was smiling brightly, perhaps a little too brightly, and showing a peace sign. The ID underneath said Oikawa Tooru, which confirmed his doubts about lying about his name before. He put it all back because the kettle made a noise and he went to pour tea.  
"Oikawa, how do you like your tea?"  
"Lots of honey pl-huh?"  
Iwaizumi just laughed quietly and sweetened the tea as Oikawa changed. Placing the hot mug into the other man's hands, Hajime also sat on the sofa, sighing.   
"Now tell me what really happened?"  
"Might as well...", Tooru's voice was quiet, and he took a sip after every few words. "That man wasn't my girlfriend's father, he was my landlord. I actually can't afford a girlfriend for quite some time, dates are expensive, huh. Just like I can't afford that apartment. I got kicked out, I don't live in Tokyo. I gotta pick up my stuff tomorrow. I'm probably gonna have to drop out of college and go back to my parents' house. Also, sorry for lying to you, you seem like a really decent guy.."  
"That's awful..", Hajime brought him warm milk bread. "You know, you really can stay here tonight if you want. I won't throw you out on the rain."   
Tooru looked something between relieved and terrified. Why was this person so kind to him? He bit into his milk bread.  
Hajime couldn't explain it either. Everything in his gut screamed not to let this man walk out, and he didn't know why. Sure, he was beautiful, sure, he was in distress, sure, Iwaizumi wasn't a bad person, but he wanted him never to go. He wanted someone to curl up watching documentaries on Friday with him, maybe someone to wait for him at home. He never realized how lonely he was.  
"And then maybe you can think about staying longer? Heh, actually, I've actually been looking for a roommate for a while now..", he lied. The pay at the newspaper was enough to cover his expenses and buy enough takeout food for one person for a month.   
"Really?" Tooru's expression was a little brighter as he ate his bread, warm and dry and indoors.   
"Heh, yeah, think about it if you want. Or you know, if you have any friends that might be interested." The last part was rushed and a lie, he didn't want any of Oikawa's friends, but he didn't want to sound too suspicious.   
"I'll think about it. It's really okay for me to stay tonight?"  
"How about that dumb alien movie now? I'll make popcorn."  
"Mean! It's not dumb!"  
"It is."  
"But yes, I'd like that. You know what else I'd like?"  
"A girlfriend?"  
"Your number. You're kinda cute in a ugly way, Iwa-chan."  
"You're actually a dumbass, aren't you?"  
"Hihi. And Iwa-chan?"  
"Mm?"  
"Thanks for taking care of me."  
"Any time."


	15. Day 15: Iwa-chan's Weak Spot (Indie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an achilles au dont hurt me, I don’t know much about achilles.  
> Dedicated to one of my best friends, Reya who left the internet 4/8/15. I miss us and our greek mythology nerd moments, and I hope you come back.

 

The one thing that everyone knows about Hajime Iwaizumi is that he is invincible.  
Hajime Iwaizumi - stabbed in the gut by many a monster, hung, burned at a stake, dunked in acid, and yet Iwa-chan would simply laugh in everyone’s face, and with his agents’s help, he would escape.  
Ah, but it is such a lonely life. Hurt over and over again, except can you truly be hurt when you are invincible?  
Hajime finds the answer to that question so many times; yes, yes, yes. Physical pain, after all, is only the weakest kind of hurt and torture. There is betrayal, love, and something that everyone has experienced; fear.  
Hajime’s fear is that someone will discover his weak spot.

f l a s h b a c k 

“Why don’t you ever make friends, kid?” said Mrs. Iwaizumi, flicking her son’s forehead. “It would be nice if someone resp–OH!” She jumped up, a look of shock on her face. “I know! Hajime, do you read greek myths at school?”  
The young child, quiet until then, shook his head quickly, as though fearing a scolding.  
“Ever heard of Achilles? Achilles…and his heel?”  
Hajime shook his head again, hoping his mother didn’t want him to do something terribly risky; for instance, the last time Mrs. Iwaizumi had had a “great plan” to “get you to bond with other kids”, Hajime had ended up a sniffling mess on the floor.  
Anyway, Hajime knew why the kids didn’t like him. Apparently, hitting them was an act of violence, though whenever a teacher said so, Hajime stopped, because he never meant to be violent, he only thought everyone was annoying and deserved it.  
“Hajime,” said Mrs. Iwaizumi, petting his head. “I want to take you to a place called The River Styx. Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re ten. You’ll be able to cope with the pain.”  
“Pain?” said Hajime. “Wait, mothe–“  
“I give you my blessing, Hajime,” she mumbled, averting her eyes as she took his hand, his hand which was shaking so hard, because he didn’t know what was going on and he didn’t get why, why his mother was so insistent on him making friends. He was FINE with being lonely, FINE with spending every birthday in bed, watching professional volleyball matches on TV, and he didn’t even WANT those annoying boys over.  
(He didn’t know that he would fall in love with an annoying boy in the coming years.)  
But Hajime was his mother’s child after all, and letting himself be dragged along by him mom was second nature, and so he didn’t try to pull away, and instead watched as Mrs. Iwaizumi hauled him along, through unfamiliar places, through a place his mother would tell him was called the Underworld. It had an unpleasant air to it, and Hajime resisted the urge to yell, “Let’s get out of here!” Bravery was an important trait, after all, or so said all the books Hajime read.  
(Oh, but vulnerability was also an important trait, one that everyone had.)  
And they faced a river.  
It didn’t particularly seem condescending, or something, but Hajime felt uneasy looking at it.  
“This won’t hurt so much,” mumbled the woman, her face crumpled as though she couldn’t bear to think of the pain her son would feel; her young, ten year old son, no less.  
Hajime nodded. While he didn’t care for the small boys who giggled behind his back and raced each other just to prove themselves strong, he would do what it took to make his mother happy with him. Mrs. Iwaizumi, after all, had not been happy ever since Mr. Iwaizumi died.  
(She said later that she knew he would die, that there was a curse upon the family. Hajime never had the guts to ask what kind of curse.)  
“Now,” she said quietly. “What part of your body would you like to be vulnerable?”  
“Vulnerable?” echoed Hajime. “Aren’t we already vulnerable?”  
“More vulnerable than usual,” said Mrs. Iwaizumi with a small, sad smile. “Forgive me.”  
Hajime bit down hard on one of his nails, wincing. “My weak spot…”  
“Make it somewhere that the enemy cannot reach so easily,” said the mother. “Do not forget, this makes you…almost invincible.”  
Hajime’s eyes widened, and his teeth wrenched his nail away, and glanced down at his shoulder. “There, that small bit.”  
“Remember that, child,” said the woman. “Think of that spot as you go in. Think of it being more vulnerable than the rest.” A pause. “Be strong, son.”  
She lifted him and he waded cautiously in.

Needless to say, getting dipped into the River Styx? Agony, agony. Every fibre of Hajime Iwaizumi begged to be let out, to just end this suffering, end it, end it, end it, but then, he remembered what his mother told him, to think of that small spot on his left shoulder, and so he shut his eyes tight, squeezed his fists tight, and hoped.

When Hajime emerged, he felt stronger.

e n d o f f l a s h b a c k 

Hajime turns to his army. “Guys,” he says in that strong voice he’s developed over the years. “Can I have a battle with the knight here?” He jabs his finger at the newspaper. There, on the front page is a picture of a knight.  
He is lovely; he is beautiful. To call him anything else would be such an insult to his beauty. He has wavy, long brown hair that falls into his eyes, his mysterious eyes, and he’s wearing a strange smile that Hajime despises already.  
He looks invulnerable, but looks are deceiving. Hajime can defeat him in battle; battle, after all is Hajime Iwaizumi’s hobby. It’s what he is best at, and everyone knows it, especially those boys at school who used to snicker behind his back.  
After all, at this point, Hajime has killed most of those boys, and his army would always tell him, “nice job, they deserved it!” but the looks in those boys's eyes, they haunted Hajime.  
(They still do.)  
“Yes, Iwaizumi-san,” say some of his men, and leave the room to arrange a fight between Hajime and that boy.  
(That boy is broken and vulnerable.  
So is Hajime.)

—

“Master,” says his most loyal man.  
“Did I forget to pay you for organising the thing with pretty boy? Here you g–“  
“No, I just think that you should get ready for battle. That man, he’s coming over very soon.”  
Hajime nods once curtly, and gets up from his bed, of which he was lying on, staring at the ceiling, and goes to his closet to pick out his best armour, and unconsciously, he rubs his left shoulder.  
The man of Hajime’s army, stares at him, before shrugging and leaving the room. Hajime curses himself for being so careless as he changes into the thick armour.  
“Ohhhh?”  
Hajime whirls around, helmet in hand. “Who–“  
“You’re my opponent, aren’t you?” the man says lazily.  
It’s the man from the picture, the one with the strange smile and the dark, focused eyes, and the floppy hair that falls in front of those eyes.  
“Oh,” says Hajime softly, putting on his armour.  
“No one told me armour was allowed,” whines the man. “It’s only fair that you take it off! I didn’t bring MINE!”  
Hajime’s first impression of his opponent is ‘pretty-boy-spoilt-brat.’  
“I’m not taking this off,” scowls Hajime. “This just means that you’ll lose for certain.”  
The boy tilts his head. “So you mean you’re fine with winning very unfairly.”  
“It’s not unfair. It’s different for–“ Hajime stops himself. “I can’t take this off.”  
“You can’t, or you won’t?”  
“Excuse me?”  
“What’ll happen if you take it off?”  
They stare at each other; seconds seem like minutes, hours.  
“I–can’t,” Hajime manages to say, breaking the silence, his voice choked.  
And his opponent’s eyes are clear. “I see,” he says.  
“I—“  
“I won’t tell anyone if you take off that armour,” says his opponent.  
Hajime’s second impression of his opponent is “bad-personality-boy-who-knows-how-to-get-what-he-wants.  
“I’ll figure out your weak spot myself,” finishes the boy with the bad personality, and he heads for the door as Hajime puts the helmet down and begins taking off his armour. At the last second, he stops and turns. “I didn’t get your name.”  
Hajime hesitates. Names are powerful. “Iwaizumi Hajime.”  
“I’m Oikawa Tooru, Iwa-chan.” Then the door closes behind them.  
“Iwa-chan?” mutters Hajime. “Asshole.”  
He has to take his armour off, making him more weak than ever. His sword is sitting next to him, and he picks it up, swishing it around experimentally.  
He has to glance at his shoulder, so exposed now.  
Shit.

—

“Iwa-chan, here,” says Oikawa Tooru, waving at his opponent, who seems to have bitten through most of his lip by now. Oikawa almost feels bad for him, now after figuring out the unspoken truth; Hajime has been dunked into the River Styx, experienced pain that not many have. “Iwa-chan has a weak spot…” He laughs softly. “That means I have to find it, doesn’t it? I have to slash ’till I find it then, don’t I?” He ceases speaking to himself as his opponent approaches him, his face tense.  
“Oikawa,” he says.  
“Iwa-chan.”  
“Don’t call me Iwa-chan!”  
“You can come up with a nickname for me, too!” says Oikawa, his bright, cheerful smile appearing on his face.  
“Don’t smile like that…Assikawa,” mumbles Hajime, and Oikawa’s attention is diverted from the nickname.  
“Smile like what?”  
“Like you just ate a lemon, spit it out, and then was forced to eat a duck. Then you vomited that, went to bed, and was force fed a giraffe’s intestines and ten lemons. Then your girlfriend came over, so you tried to smile.”  
Oikawa stares at him for three seconds, before bursting out laughing. “You’re a strange one, you know that?” He pauses. “I wouldn’t have a girlfriend, though.”  
“Huh?” Hajime frowns, and then he realises and his face heats up. “Oh. OH. You’re gay?”  
“Yep!” Oikawa nods, grinning, and shoves a peace sign in Iwa-chan’s face. “It’s a shame we have to battle, y’know? It seems we can read each other pretty well. But since we do have to,” Oikawa says, stopping for a second as Hajime tenses up. “I’ll find your weak spot, Iwa-chan.”  
“I–“  
“I get it,” says Oikawa, surprisingly gentle. “Everyone’s vulnerable, and I know that better than anyone could.”

Ever since Oikawa said that, Hajime has never been able to see him in the same light.

“Battle time starting in ten seconds,” says an amplified voice, coming from a megaphone. “Ten!”  
The two brandish their swords.  
“Nine! Eight!”  
Hajime clenches his fists.  
“Seven! Six! Five!”  
Oikawa smoothes his hair back.  
“Four! Three! Two! One!”  
They get ready. They don’t want to fight each other; already there is a type of bond between them, a bond formed of only similarities.

Except their only similarity is the fact that they are so very broken.

"Zero!”  
Every human is broken. If Oikawa or Hajime die, either of them can find another broken human.

There is an alarming amount of them in the universe.

“Go!”

Fight, block, parry, dodge, lunge, fight, repeat, repeat, until both are so worn out that fighting is an effort equivalent to climbing a thousand mountains.  
Because Tooru Oikawa and Hajime Iwaizumi are truly equal in the art of fighting, though while Hajime has fought only when necessary, Oikawa has practiced harder than a thousand men combined, spent hours beating himself up over being not good enough, because he is truly not good enough in his eyes; he sees himself as the runner up to geniuses.  
But Oikawa loves this. For some reason, he feels perfectly in synch with Hajime Iwaizumi, though they are opponents, and he feels that Iwaizumi feels the same, only by looking at his alarmed eyes.  
Oikawa Tooru had forgotten what he’s trying to do seconds ago, but now he remembers; he needs to find Iwa-chan’s weak spot, hurt him, cause pain to the humans he simply seems to match up with  
(Oikawa Tooru is beautiful but his personality has been scarred far too many times to match up with his looks.)  
And Oikawa’s eyes are crazed now, sadistic. He stabs at Hajime’s stomach, but the man ducks. He tries again; nothing. He slashes Hajime’s right shoulder. Nothing. He slashes Hajime’s left shoulder. Bingo.  
But Hajime’s eyes widen and he falls to his knees, shaking, and Oikawa Tooru suddenly wishes that he didn’t do that, because shit, shit, shit, he knows Iwa-chan won’t die but he feels like he just broke the rest of Hajime, the rest of Hajime that was just barely keeping itself together.  
Oikawa falls to his knees, and tries to look at Hajime’s face, but it’s hidden, buried in Hajime’s chest, and Hajime’s shoulders are shaking, one of them ripped and gory and all around disgusting, not what anyone would consider attractive.  
“Iwa-chan?” mumbles Tooru. “Please look at me, Iwa-chan.”  
But the other man is crying and Oikawa can see it now, and he’s very beautiful.  
“Come home with me, Iwa-chan. Can I help you?”  
Hajime looks up finally, and he mutters something that sounds like, “Dumbass,” but if you knew Hajime, you would also know that this was how he said things. In fact, to Hajime, the word dumbass probably has a hidden meaning, something more like, “No one has ever asked me that.”  
And Hajime’s shoulder is bleeding, but his heart is healing, because Iwaizumi Hajime hardly knows the meaning of love, Iwaizumi Hajime who’s mother practically forced him to a life of abandonment, Iwaizumi Hajime who’s been laughed at since a young child, Iwaizumi Hajime who is feared, and respected, but not loved, never loved, but as he looks at Oikawa Tooru’s outstretched hand, he thinks maybe, just maybe, he is not the only person who has suffered whispers and mean laughter and hate and cruelties, maybe Oikawa Tooru is like him, gone mad by the years of being left alone.  
And he takes Oikawa Tooru’s hand, Oikawa Tooru who revealed his weak spot, Oikawa Tooru who has experienced everything he has, Oikawa Tooru who he could learn to love.


	16. Day 16: Piggy back rides (Nick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in their second year; so no Karasuno or Kageyama drama. Sadly, also no Kindaichi and Kunimi, and they don't live together yet. This was also inspired by a fanfic I read on here long ago, cheers to the original author if you're reading this.

Iwaizumi resisted the killer urge to roll his eyes when his phone buzzed. There we go again. He flipped the damn thing open, and of course the call was from who he expected it would be from. After all, he knew since that stupid X files theme song started playing. In the freaking 4 in the morning.  
"Iwa-chan, yahoo!!"  
Ugh.  
"What do you want?"  
"Heh, long story...I need you to pick me up."  
"Which girl did you screw up now?"  
"I'm actually at the hospital.."  
"She's pregnant?!"  
"No, it's not like that!!"  
"You're pregnant!?"  
"Iwa-chan, please, it's just a minor knee inj-"  
"YOU OVERWORKED AGAIN??"  
"Iwa-chan, please calm dow-"  
"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD Y-Which hospital are you in?"  
Panic overwhelmed every one of Iwaizumi's senses as he got the address. Not this, not this /again/. This time he might be banned from volleyball for good, or in a wheel chair, or or-  
He could always find a solid replacement, right? Someone else could do a great place as a replacement.  
Except Iwaizumi didn't want someone else's tosses, he didn't want someone else to hit, he didn't want to hold someone else's hand when he's scared, he didn't want to eat with someone else on the roof and he didn't want to walk home with /someone else/. Tooru absolutely had to be okay, he had to walk and toss and run and be himself again.  
What scared him the most is to see him broken.  
As he ran to the hospital (too young to drive, poor child, he snuck out of his house, hoping his parents won't notice), he realized how he has indeed seen Tooru broken quite a few times in their endless years of friendship. It killed him every time. Oikawa was always the one to fake a smile, to keep his head up, to proudly wear his mask. He took it off when Iwaizumi was around, of course, there was honestly no purpose in wearing it when the future ace could see right trough it anyway, but he learned to respect the hiding. Other people have enough of their own problems without your own, was Oikawa's policy.  
But now he called out for help. Now he needed Hajime. And now Hajime will be there, like he always was.  
He marched into the hospital, his voice breathy once he pushed trough the line on the reception table.  
"O-Oikawa..?", he managed between pants, "Tooru?  
The receptionist smiled kindly at him and showed him to a room. He rushed inside without thanking her.  
The room was large, with six beds paralelly placed from the window to the door. All were full, some alone, some with family members, friends or lovers by their sides, all asleep. But the one that caught his eye was at the very end, right by the window.  
Oikawa looked...well, fairly normal. His face had a healthy blush as he flipped trough his phone, a tiny, mysterious smile on his face. His knee was wrapped in a bandage, and he was rocking the hospital dress. Like seriously, he looked like a Godsend in that sickly green, it pissed Iwaizumi off how he looked like the most beautiful thing on Earth in whatever he wore.  
Or was that just him?  
"Iwa-chan, you made it", his tone was quiet, but happy.  
"Of course I have", the other mumbled while sitting on the bed, "why didn't you call your parents?"  
"They wouldn't answer...Please take me home, Iwa-chan, I can't spend a minute anymore in here."  
"What happened..?"  
Iwaizumi listened about how he was walking home after staying behind practice to serve over and over and over again and how his legs shook and how he fell, and how some man found him and took him to the hospital. He couldn't stand right even, and had to stay in, but it terrified him. The nurse had said how he shouldn't walk for a couple of days, other than that he was fine. He got really upset by mere mentioning staying in the hospital or generally telling his parents, so Iwaizumi had to keep telling him that it's okay and now nobody will know and how he'll carry him if he must, but he won't let him stay here all alone. The nurse then came in, politely asking Iwaizumi to leave, since it was late. He glared at her, picked Oikawa up bridal style, told her he's taking him home and that she shouldn't worry because he won't let him walk, then just walked out. Just like that. He was always a badass. On his way, Oikawa giggled and hugged his neck and picked up the plastic bag the nurses put his clothes in when he arraived.  
Iwaizumi called a cab, even though Oikawa's house wasn't far. They snuck in, careful not to wake Oikawa's parents, sister and Takeru, and Hajime set him on the bed, still in hospital dress and all.  
"Iwa-chan, you're my savior", he closed his eyes on the bed.  
"Put some proper clothes on, idiot", was the only reply.  
Some proper clothes meant PJs, and so he did, tucking himself into his covers once he got changed. Iwaizumi pecked his forehead, half asleep and half unaware of his actions in the moonlit bedroom, then slowly went for the door. It was around 5am by now.  
"I'll pick you up in the morning, before school. You're going to school, right?"  
"Why do you even have to go?"  
"I need to change, shower, get my books, have breakfast. Such things."  
"Can't you stay even for a bit longer?"  
"No."  
"Pleeeeaaaaseeeeeee", it was interrupted by a yawn, "only until I fall asleep?"  
"Fine", Iwaizumi sighed, taking his jacket off and slipping into the bed. His arms found the familiar warmth and wrapped around in, running his fingers trough soft, curly hair in order to lull his friend into peaceful sleep.  
When Tooru woke, he was alone in the bed.  
However, at 6.30 o'clock sharp, a faint knocking was heard on his door, followed by the too-familiar figure, except with a bag on his shoulders this time.  
"You're aware we'll have to tell at least someone, since it might get suspicious that I'm carrying you around the school."  
"Nnnnn-"  
"Just the team?"  
"Fineeeee."  
Iwaizumi helped him get dressed and pack his things, placed a sandwich in his hands, a note on his kitchen table ("Mom, dad, I'm going to school early this morning, Iwa-chan came to pick me up!! Love you!! -Tooru ), then placed him on his back and marched outside. Tooru was heavy, but not as heavy as he expected. If passengers found it odd that one perfectly functional teenager was giving a piggy back to another perfectly functional (minus the knee, but there were no visible signs for that) teenager, they showed no signs of it.  
In class they got a few odd looks, and a few giggles from BL fangirls, but no other complaints, which was odd. Maybe everyone just thought it was only a matter of time before they started doing lovey-dovey stuff, though Iwaizumi would never admit it. Oikawa was like this annoying bag of potatoes on his back, talking all the time and good for absolutely nothing. He'd never admit how happy he was he was okay and how much the warmth on his back and the legs wrapped around his waist made him feel bliss. No, never.  
At practice, they explained the situation. Watari laughed it off, and Mattsun and Makki nodded respectfully, something similar apperently happened to them in the past. Funny, Iwaizumi thought he and Oikawa were special there for a moment. Tooru sat on the bench, watching and commenting and getting yelled at when he tried to toss from sitting position. Later, Hajime carried him home and helped him cover with his parents. 

The same routine repeated every day now - Iwaizumi would show up at his house at dawn, carry him around all day and then take him back home. Oikawa adored being chained to him, his only real friend who actually enjoyed spending time with him, him him not him when he pretended. Although grumpy, Iwaizumi threw in comments in Oikawa's stories and enthusiastically participated in the conversation. He's gotten used to the feeling of hands at the bottom side of his thighs, holding him for support, and the strong back he rested his head on more often than not. He refused to think how empty his days will feel once he got better and they had to separate and go back to their normal lives which still involved a lot of each other but not quite this close.  
He missed tossing for him, though. He missed tossing for everyone.  
His knee was getting better, and as the pain lessened, the fear of separation intensified. 

The day had finally come; it's been a week since his middle of the night visit to the hospital. Iwaizumi was there, of course, when he tried to stand first. His legs fent insecure, but he stood fine. A few small steps, a walk to the mailbox, a jog down the street, he was fine, back in function. Once back on his bed, he decided to roll the rock off his chest already.  
"Iwa-chan, I just want to thank you fo-"  
"I don't want your thanks."  
"But-I just loved this week so much and I thought maybe-", Oikawa sounded a little hurt.  
"I don't want just your thanks", he was suddenly really, really close and that palm that usually spiked the ball so hard was now insanely gentle on his face, "I simply want all of you."  
His lips weren't soft, Oikawa didn't expect them to be. They were chapped, and cold, and a little rough around the edges, but absolutely perfect, almost as perfect as they fit onto his own. Iwaizumi tasted like toothpaste (had he expected this??) and blueberries and those nights spent under the stars, talking about life and aliens and everything yet anything.  
It wasn't Tooru's first kiss, it wasn't even his tenth kiss, but it felt way too good to be true. His head spun way too hard and his palms were kinda sweaty and he wrapped his arms around his best friend and moved into his lap. 

His knees also felt weak, except this time it wasn't for medical reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me for being a sucker for kisses. I could write them kiss for the first time over and over and over again and never get bored of it, I love these dorks.


	17. Day 17: (An Attempt at) Flirting (Indie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note;  
> this sucks and hardly is flirting at all but whatever

“Hey, sweetie, aren’t you clutching that thing a little bit hard?”  
Tooru looks up from his beer bottle. The girl who has just said something is right; Tooru’s holding the bottle a little too hard, and his hands are shaking a little too much.  
“It’s none of your business,” replies Tooru finally. He’s just returned from a funeral, and his mother told him to go have some fun. Not that she looked like she was having fun; she’d cried so much.  
Tooru didn’t cry. Tooru couldn’t cry. He only walked out of the house, his breath caught in his throat, and how he wishes that it was him who died, not Iwa-chan.  
“Darling, you look like you’re having a shitty time. What’s wrong?”  
Tooru stands up. He’s only here to get wasted, to forget about his best friend, to let the pain fade if only for a day. “None of your business,” he hisses. The girl’s obviously trying to flirt with him. He doesn’t want to be flirted with.  
It brings back memories; they’re not all good, of course not. There were so many arguments, tears too, of course, of course.  
And maybe telling about them will help; talking helps, is what his therapist used to say.

“I remember,” says Tooru. His voice is hollow. “You flirting with me like this makes me remember how there was one time I forced Iwa-chan to flirt with me.”  
The girl perks up like she doesn’t mind hearing about this. “Iwa-chan? Lost loves?”  
“You could say that.” Tooru chews at a thumbnail. “You’re one of those gossipy girls, aren’t you?”  
She looks offended. “I don’t like humans. I don’t have people to gossip with. I just want to hear your story.”  
“My story…” Tooru leans down on his palm, faint traces of a smile on his face. “I’ll tell you about the times I made him try to flirt with me.”

—

F l a s h b a c k 

“Iwa-chan, I expect you to flirt with me today,” said Oikawa.  
Iwaizumi’s head snapped up. “What the hell, dumbass? I’m not flirti–“  
“See you at the arcade in Tokyo tonight,” sang the setter. “You have to try and flirt with me, okayyyyy? Make everyone jump out of their boots in happiness! Make them vote us cutest couple!”  
“No, Assikawa, what the f–“  
“See you there tonight.” He waved, a smirk on his face, not knowing the murderous thoughts going through Iwaizumi’s head right then.  
“Why would I even want to flirt with you?” growled Iwaizumi. “Dumbasskawa, I swear I’m gonna–“  
“I’ll call the police on you,” squeaked Oikawa, before disappearing into the crowd.  
—  
Iwaizumi didn’t know how he ended up with such a fucking dumbass for a best friend. If he had his way, he would go back in time and choose a different partner for his volleyball project.  
Of course, Iwaizumi had the worst luck ever, and didn’t know how to time travel. Maybe in the future, scientists would figure a way to make it work.  
For now, Iwaizumi was stuck. He didn’t have to go flirt with the idiot after all, but his mother would murder him if he didn’t keep an eye on the boy; Oikawa was way too enthusiastic about anything and everything, just like an overenthusiastic puppy.  
Well, he couldn’t get into trouble. He wouldn’t let himself get into trouble; he had to accompany Oikawa to the bar and flirt with him. Although, knowing Oikawa, he would have a girlfriend by the time Iwaizumi even made it to the stupid bar.  
He was an ass like that, breaking hearts one minute, healing others' the next.  
He’d already decided by that time though; he’d have to join Oikawa.  
But how in hell was he going to get to Tokyo?  
—  
“And then she said I was really funny,” said Oikawa to a girl he’d just met minutes ago. She was charming, absolutely so, and she’d been at the arcade since day, slotting ticket after ticket in machines. She definitely seemed like she’d spent at least 5000 yen on this. Interesting girl. Oikawa could get her as a girlfriend if he wanted to, but he felt like she was different, like she wouldn’t agree right away.  
She interested him.  
He tried to shake away those thoughts, though, because he already had one Iwa-chan who was gonna come flirt with him. He didn’t need another.  
But Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan was late, and waiting for him was tiring. Oikawa was a man of fun thing and jokes and laughing. Waiting was boring, waiting was annoying, and Iwa-chan might not even show up.  
Anyway, Iwa-chan probably sucked at flirting.  
So Oikawa smiled at the girl and accompanied her to a chair. “Here, m’lady.” The girl giggled, and sat next to him, and they laughed and they flirted and all Oikawa’s thoughts of Iwa-chan drifted away, because this girl was surprisingly just that cute. She flirted well, too. Better than Iwa-chan could.  
Within two hours, they were kissing.  
—  
“Oikawa!”  
Oikawa’s head jolted up as he saw Iwaizumi approaching him. “Oh, sorry, Haruka-chan, be right back.”  
Iwaizumi was there. Unexpected, except it didn’t make Oikawa as happy as it would have. “Hey, Iwa-chan.”  
“Well,” mumbled Iwaizumi, scratching the back of his head. “You’re, really pretty.”  
Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me you’re not trying to flirt with me right then. That wasn’t cute at all!”  
“I’ll punch you! Why do I have to flirt with you, anyway, you’re such a brat!” said Iwaizumi.  
“That’s not romantic enough, Iwa-chan! You should take lessons from Haruka-chan!”  
“Already on first name terms?” muttered Iwaizumi. “Such a brat.”  
Oikawa’s face was stiff at this point. Why could Iwaizumi never be romantic? This was where they were supposed to kiss, and make everyone squeal, but Oikawa felt like getting cards and flowers and pickup lines today. He wasn’t in the mood for, well, Iwaizumi.  
Iwaizumi frowned. “But you are pretty,” he said, not knowing what was going through Oikawa’s head. “I’m going to get a drink.”  
And he went to the small bar in the corner of the arcade, and he got a wine, and Oikawa, irritated with him, had gone back to sit with Haruka, and Iwaizumi had stared over at them, and then Iwaizumi had drank, more, more, and he’d left and he was in a car, and–and–  
Drinking and driving while being so confused because your best friend is basically rejecting you is not wise.

End of flashback

“I see,” says the girl quietly. “So this Iwa-chan…”  
“He’s dead,” says Tooru flatly. “He died while I was laughing with a girl who broke up with me the minute I said I had to leave. And I liked her so much. I’ve lost everything.”  
And the girl smiles, and it’s a little melancholy. “What a horrible girl. What a horrible life.”  
And she gets up and she leaves, and Tooru is all alone, still feeling numb and far worse than before.


	18. Day 18: Hide and Seek (Nick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will edit the lyrics into italics, patience.

**_Late night, phone calls_ **   
**_Bags packed, so long_ **

Iwaizumi almost laughed as he recalled the day he left. His smile was now everywhere, not something reserved for the privileged. It wasn't real, though, that's something he still kept for Hajime only. His face, that beautiful face, in commercials, in movies, on billboards; Oikawa Tooru was now a Hollywood big shot now, after all. He hid.

_**Night drive, long flight** _   
_**Nothing good about goodbye** _

After college, Oikawa auditioned for some minor role in a tv soap opera, and it got him famous. Soon he travelled away, to America, to follow his dreams. Iwaizumi was afraid, so afraid they would lose touch and that Oikawa would slip trough his fingers, but he didn't. They talked every day, met whenever they could.  
Iwaizumi didn't stay alone in Japan for long, his garage band caught a break, and so he as well travelled to America, maybe half hopeful he'll find him.

**_By the time I'm leaving I'll be wishing I could stay_ **   
**_I'll be thinking 'bout you every day a different state_ **

The times they were getting together got even rarer, though they were in the same state. Iwaizumi had his tour, and for the first time ever girls were screaming for /him/. It was an odd feeling. Even when Oikawa did get a day off from his booked schedule, Iwaizumi was across the state performing for a full concert hall.

**_A mile or a million_ **   
**_You know I'm always on the road_ **   
**_But I won't let you go_ **

They haven't grown distant, no. Iwaizumi never stopped seeking him. Whenever they could, they sat on a plane and met halfway. The meetings were never awkward, always full of arms and kisses and tears and promises of loyalty and a better tomorrow.  
Even when he wouldn't see him for months, Iwaizumi found himself staring at his phone screen at night, exchanging texts and whispers of comfort.

_**I'll stay up all night** _   
_**Staring at the sky you're somewhere** _   
_**On the other side** _

It wasn't long until Hajime started missing him by his side, not more than a year. Finding Tooru's hiding place became harder and harder. Everyday life somehow became empty. He worked, wrote songs, buried himself in long nights with a coffee cup. More often than not his phone would ring, and he'd pick it up, not even bothering to check the caller ID, because he knew. He always knew.

_**And if you're sleeping alone tonight**_  
 _ **Let me be your lullaby**_.

"Hey."  
"Iwa-chan, why are you up?"  
"I'm working on a new song."  
"What's it about?"  
"You. Always you."

_**Oh I've got stars in my eyes cause you look** _   
_**Better by my side and** _   
_**If you're sleeping alone tonight** _   
_**Let me be your lullaby.** _

It hasn't been a day Oikawa Tooru has woken up and didn't get surprised by the lack of warmth in his bed, by it's size despite the fact that only one person stayed in it. Except when he visited, and those got rarer and rarer. Hiding was lonely. His colleagues slept with someone new every day, changed partners as one would change socks. Oh, he's been hit on; by both males and females, famous and fans, every kind. He never broke his promise, though, he never even thought about it, it still rang in his years like it wasn't made when they were children.

"Only yours."

**_Hush now, speak slow_ **   
**_Stay close, don't go_ **

The day has finally come, Iwaizumi was in a plane, flying across the state from Texas, where his most recent concert took place. He was finally going to find him, after over 3 months. Oikawa only had one day off, so he was going to his house in LA.  
When Tooru picked him up, they didn't hug. They didn't run into each other's arms and they didn't lock their lips and got lost in each other, no. Too many people were around. The public just thought both of them were more of solo players, they never shared their relationship. It was something private, something theirs.  
Tears spilled and lips collided and sobs rose in throats once they were safe in Oikawa's mansion. Oikawa's hair was as soft as ever, his real smile as charming as always.

_**Two hearts, one night** _   
_**Wish we didn't have to say goodbye** _

Oikawa's bed wasn't empty that day, and his room wasn't quiet; whispers and pants, choked words and unbelievable warmth. He didn't get any sleep that night.

_**By the time I'm leaving I'll be wishing I could stay** _   
_**I'll be thinking 'bout you every day a different state** _

Iwaizumi left the next day, off with his business and taking Oikawa's heart along. Oikawa felt that it might be his turn to seek.

_**A mile or a million** _   
_**You know I'm always on the road** _

The plane couldn't be faster, Iwaizumi thought. Gone too soon. He took out his paper and pen and doodled lyrics. About him. Always about him. About his hair, and his smile, and his fingers, and his skin, and his voice, which used to be his alone, but he now shared with the world.

_**But I won't ever let you go**_.

Although Oikawa shined in fancy outfits, parading on big screens like he was born for it, with makeup on to correct what Iwaizumi already thought was perfect, he preffered him with messy hair, bags under his eyes and tired smiles he wore when they Skyped every night. It was him, the real him, the him Hajime loved. Sometimes Tooru told him about life in LA, and how he didn't struggle with English at all anymore, how the other actors were great and how he never lacked anything. Other times he cried, cried at how lonely he was and how much hate mail he received and how much he just wants to pack his bags and hit the road, back to Miyagi, back home. Just how much he wants to be found.

_**A different night, a different day** _   
_**Pretty soon it's all the same** _

Soon Oikawa travelled to Europe, to shoot some special scene. The urge to quit it all was growing within him, he found himself not wanting to shoot and slacking off, he found himself longing for the streets and times of his childhood, when his biggest worry was whether Iwa-chan was gonna release that bug from the jar or not.

_**Being without you...** _

Hajime felt an ache in his chest almost every day, every face looked like him. He wrapped his fingers around the microphone and took a deep breath, ignoring the hope that that curly brown head in the endless crowd was his. He hadn't found him, he couldn't.

_**I'll stay up all night** _   
_**Staring at the stars you're** _   
_**Somewhere on the other side** _

He called Oikawa that night. He picked up, of course. He always picks up when Hajime calls him.  
"Tooru, what are we doing?", he said without a greeting.  
"Are you breaking up with me?"  
"No, I'm asking you to marry me."  
"Time and place?"  
The yes was unnecessary, it has been clear to them for far too long that they were meant to end up together.  
"Your next day off, Paris?"  
"I'll be there."

_**And if you're sleeping alone tonight** _   
_**Let me be your lullaby.** _

The day has come, and Hajime wasn't in his nicest suit. He wore jeans and a shirt, clean but normal. Tooru looked messier than on the screen as well, his tight black pants and sweater looked like one of any other young adult who wasn't just going to get married to the love of his life.  
They said their vows, they kissed, and they knew their marriage won't be valid in other states because of their genders. But that was okay, because people don't get married for the world, they get married for themselves and for their chosen one. It was something private, something theirs. That's why they didn't invite anyone in the first place. Tooru thought that maybe he finally found him for good.

_**Oh I've got stars in my eyes** _   
_**Cause you look better by my side** _

Within the next month Oikawa Tooru proclaimed to be retiring from the scene to write scenarios as a director. Hajime's band also got tired of fame, and the other two high school friends which where in the band, Matsukawa and Hanamaki, got married as well, and got tired of the constant travel. Kindaichi joined another band, where he found a handsome guitarist with half-lid eyes and a constant expression of boredom on his face he fell for. Watari got back home and started a cake shop like he always wanted. Iwaizumi settled for being a songwriter, sending his lyrics from his residency in Japan, in some small, irrelevant city he just happened to be born in.  
The public soon found out that he retired there with a former Hollywood star, and although the tabloids went crazy about it for about a month, things settled down eventually. Oikawa also wrote the scenario for a blockbuster alien movie Iwaizumi personally thought was crap, but he was glad his husband was happy, because nothing else really mattered, not now when he never had to leave. No more hiding.

_**And you won't be sleeping alone tonight** _   
_**So let me be your lullaby.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is Lullaby by Paradise fears.


	19. Day 19: Alone Together (Indie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iwaoi cuddles cause me pain. And happiness.

“Hey.”

Oikawa’s lying on his bed already, staring at the ceiling, but when he hears Iwaizumi come in, he sits up, a tired expression on his face. “Are you okay, Iwa-chan?”  
“Yeah.” His voice cracks just a little bit.  
“It wasn’t your fault. I messed up on that last receive.”  
“Yeah,” repeats Iwaizumi. “Wait, no. Oikawa, that toss…was perfect, and I couldn’t get it in! What kind of an ace…” He trails off as Oikawa puts a hand to his lips.

They both radiate weariness. They’re tired.

“Should we go see Karasuno play versus Shiratorizawa?”

“I don’t want to,” says Oikawa, and Iwaizumi looks at him in surprise. Iwaizumi thinks that normally, Oikawa would take any opportunity to see his kouhai get crushed, because honestly, Karasuno might be good but not good enough to beat the eagle, Ushijima. He’s wondering about this, and then Oikawa interrupts his thoughts with a tiny smile and a, “Tobio-chan might win, you know that? His team really is good.”  
Iwaizumi’s head jolts up, and he makes a surprised noise, followed by a snort; not an intentional one, but he’d just been crying, after all, crying because he couldn’t get that stupid toss, that stupid perfect toss from that stupid perfect setter.  
"Let’s just stay here,” murmurs Oikawa, “Let’s stay here together.”

“Mm.” Iwaizumi knows better than to question the things Oikawa Tooru wants; after all, Oikawa has always, always been a brat, but an adorable brat who manipulates others with cute eyes rather than bratty cries.

And so they lie down on Oikawa’s bed, eyes shut, Tooru’s head on Hajime’s shoulder, and they could stay like this together, Hajime’s arm on Tooru’s chest, practically cuddling.

 

It’s sweet. Or so Oikawa would argue, though Hajime has no qualms contradicting him.

 

And Iwaizumi thinks. About the match, and how he’d not managed to spike that last one, the last one that could have decided the game in their favour, and how Tooru had acted surprisingly mature, guiding him away, Matsukawa and Hanamaki as well. Then he thinks, fuck, was Tooru always this warm, because Oikawa is warm, he always is. Hajime has complained about his best friend’s body temperature many times, but now he’s grateful for the warmth it provides, sweet and inviting and lovely, just like Oikawa Tooru is.

 

But of course, Oikawa is unable to keep still for so long. Two seconds later, he’s bounding up, whining about wanting a “distraction.”

 

Iwaizumi wonders if punching his head in is distraction enough, but that’s just a fleeting thought. He loves his friend no matter how much he protests against such.  
"Dumbass," he mutters. "Let's just watch a movie or something!"   
Oikawa's eyes light up. "Yay for Iwa-chan! Let's watch-"  
"NOT an alien movie," says Iwaizumi, because honestly, he's been around Oikawa long enough his entire life to know that alien movies are Oikawa's passion.  
Iwaizumi also knows from years of experience that alien movies are usually utter crap. Of course, there are a few exceptions. Iwaizumi just hasn't seen those ones yet.  
"I wasn't gonna suggest that," says Oikawa, highly affronted. Iwaizumi sends him a disbelieving look, which Oikawa ignores. "No, Iwa-chan. I thought we could watch a horror movie."  
Iwaizumi's reaction is immediate and abrupt. "Fuck off."  
Oikawa looks pleadingly at Hajime. "Pleaseeeeeeeeeeee? You messed up that last spik-"  
"Don't even think about guilting me into it, dumbass, you messed up that last receive."  
"Don't mention that," mumbles Oikawa. "Why not a horror movie?"  
"I hate horror and you know it," says Iwaizumi, blunt as always. "In fact, why the hell did you bother asking in the first place?"  
"But...but Iwaaaaaaaaaa-channn. I'll pick something that's not scary enough to scare you!"  
"If I say yes, will you shut up?"  
Oikawa skips over to the DVD shelves in his room, a bright smile on his face. "Don't worry, Iwa-chan, it won't be scary enough to scare you!"

 

That much was true.  
What neither of them had anticipated was a screaming, yelling Oikawa - "TURN IT OFFFFFFFFFFFFFF, IWA-CHAN!"  
Long story short, it is scary enough to scare Oikawa. From now, Iwaizumi dubs him a coward.

 

The movie finishes only minutes later; well, not exactly finishes, but Iwaizumi finally gets tired of Oikawa's screams, and sighing loudly, goes to turn the TV off. Oikawa sits in a trembling heap on the floor, breathing loudly, and Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows at his friend, the apparent "unbreakable, awesome, brave Tooru!" Ha! Iwaizumi knows that he won't be teased for being cowardly; not anytime in the near future, at least. If he does, he swears he'll pummel Oikawa's head in.  
As soon as the thought comes to him, it's interrupted by an accusing finger pointed at him.   
"Iwa-chan, if we just watched alien movies, it wouldn't come to this!"  
Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow. "I thought you were over the alien phase."  
"I AM! Just - Iwa-channnnn, I know the monster from the movie is gonna get me in my sleep!"  
Iwaizumi hesitates. Then he takes Oikawa's hand and pulls him up and Hajime rests his chin on Oikawa's head.  
"It's not real, stupid," he mutters.  
Those words, they get Oikawa up and running again, and he's jumping around the room, saying, "I'm BORED, let's do something Iwa-chan! We're alone together! Think of the possibilities!"  
Iwaizumi feels his face heat up; teenage boys will be teenage boys, after all, and a lot of teenage boys are automatically born with a dirty mind. "Don't say that!" Hajime is, honestly speaking, one of them.  
"What?" Oikawa looks genuinely oblivious. "Don't say what?" Tooru isn't.  
"Nothing," says Iwaizumi. "What do you want to do?"  
"Let's throw candy floss at each other," says Tooru after pondering for a few seconds, and Iwaizumi stares at him, then shakes his head, exasperated. What the hell goes on in that dumbass' mind?   
"No," says Hajime, but then Oikawa whines and he moans and he acts like an annoying shit, nothing new there.  
And so Iwaizumi relents. "Go get the candy floss, dumbass."  
He does. Iwaizumi hears the clattering of doors, and then hears the sound of Oikawa filling up a cup of water. Then finally, he hears Tooru making his way back upstairs, eating from the bucket of cotton candy.  
"I thought we were going to throw it at each other?" says Iwaizumi with raised eyebrows.  
"We are," says Oikawa, and he stuffs a whole chunk down Iwaizumi's shirt.  
"Oh, you piece of TRASH," snarls Iwaizumi. "I'm getting you back for that."  
"Oh! That's a nice new insult!" says Oikawa grinning and then yelping. "Iwa-chan, my back's all sticky! You're wasting good food!"  
"Food that was one enjoyed wasting was not wasted," deadpans Iwaizumi, and stuffs more cotton candy down Oikawa's back.  
He wonders if it tastes good. The cotton candy, of course, not Oikawa's back. Of course.  
Of course.

 

Finally, the two settle down. They've changed into less sticky clothes and eaten the cotton candy that stuck to the back on their shirts, and now they're lying on the bed again, Oikawa's head on Iwaizumi's chest, and it's...pleasant. Not awkward, though Iwaizumi would usually get an F in cuddling skills. It's different with Oikawa. They fit. They're childhood friends, after all, and they know each other better than they know themselves, honestly.  
"Hey, Iwa-chan," says Oikawa suddenly, and his tone is so serious, Iwaizumi doesn't bother snapping at him for using the nickname. "Do you ever think that maybe Tobio-chan and that shorty are more in synch than us?"  
Iwaizumi's response comes right away. "No."  
"But, well, we've known each other for so long and we're great, but they have that freak quick and they've only recently met!" Oikawa looks at his friend desperately for reassurance.  
"Don't be a dumbass," says Iwaizumi.  
They leave it at that.  
"Hey, Iwa-chan."  
Iwaizumi looks at him again. "What?"  
"D'you know how to kiss?"  
If Hajime had been drinking anything, he would have spit it out, like in the movies, but Hajime isn't and so he settles for a loud, "WHAT?"  
This would be so much more effective with spat out tea all over Oikawa's pretty hair.  
"You don't, right?" Iwaizumi can feel the grin in his asshole best friend's voice. "Wanna learn?"  
"Dumbass-"  
"We're alone, Iwa-chan, and I'm bored," whines Oikawa and that bratty fucking undertone is so annoying, for the love of fuck-  
"Fine."  
"ReALLLLYYYYYYY?" Oikawa can't believe his luck, apparently. "Okay, look up first."  
Iwaizumi looks up, and Oikawa uses his elbow to push himself up. Iwaizumi mutters a half hearted "don't use my heart as your elbow rest asshole" but Oikawa either doesn't hear or doesn't care. Iwaizumi guesses it's the latter.  
"So," says Oikawa. "You have to tilt your head."  
Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Why?"  
"Or else you'll bump noses. Silly Iwa-chan," says Oikawa.  
"I swear I'll kill you and sell the body to Matsukawa and Hanamaki."  
Oikawa waves at the air. "You accepted, Iwa-chan. You can't back down now!"  
It's true, Hajime will give Tooru that.  
"Second," continues Tooru. "Brush your teeth."  
"What the fuck."  
"Third, you kiss! Are your teeth clean?"  
Hajime splutters and protests but Oikawa says, "we're alone, Hajime, don't worry," and he kisses his friend/what softly.  
"Iwa-chan, your teeth AREN'T clean!" wails Oikawa.  
Whether Oikawa Tooru is still alive, no one knows. Reports still claim to have found him at the bottom of the ocean, but other, more educated scientists say that Oikawa's body hangs in an exhibit in the Matsukawa-Hanamaki museum.  
Or maybe he's still alive, locked in his room, head on Hajime's chest.


	20. Day 20: Watch you sleep (Nick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda short but I like it idk  
> Vampire!Iwa

Iwaizumi signed. This wasn't a good night at all. His throat stung from thirst, his palms felt itchy, and his eyes flew around the crowd, almost crazed by the scents.

Being a vampire and all, he had a really hard time keeping himself in check.

He climbed at the rooftop of a nearby building, incredible speed. From up there, he had a decent view of the crowd.  
The main square, packed on a Friday night. So many people, scents, tastes, opportunities. Iwaizumi was hungry. But drinking blood from abandoned homeless people and prostitutes, people nobody will miss, really started to get on his nerves. He was aching for a treat.  
Someone with a higher rank in society.  
A high school student, perhaps.  
There were quite a few girl groups, seemingly young, going around the store, but he wasn't impressed.  
Not until he sniffed him.  
A delicious scent, of chocolate and strawberries and something else that he couldn't put his finger on, but it was amazing. Then, he saw him: carefully messy brown curls, polo shirt, ripped jeans. Young. Attractive. High school, maybe college. A blonde girl holding his hand.  
Bingo.  
Iwaizumi forgot about everything else, hiding himself into the shadows and tracking the couple. His voice was sweet, like honey, as he spoke to the girl, and Iwaizumi imagined his blood to be even sweeter.  
Luckily, the girl left him at a doorway. He kissed her cheek, mumbled something as sweet as he looked and then headed home.  
This was his chance.  
Except he couldn't. So he waited until the man went to his apartment (8th floor, Iwaizumi remembered, he climbed on the outside of the building), showered (he looked nice without the clothing as well, Hajime could hardly wait), had dinner and went to sleep. Iwaizumi nested just outside his window. The man was truly beautiful, he now noticed, as moonlight danced across the fine lines of his face, bathing his brunette locks faintly silver. The expression he wore was peaceful, a dreamless sleep. Iwaizumi imagined him covered in blood, and shivered at the mere thought of wrecking that beauty. His throat stung too, though. His fingers grazed the glass gently, almost as if wanting to touch his milky face, before he disappeared.

Oh, he returned the following night, and the night after that. The following day, week, month, three. He fed on society's waste, satisfying his need for beauty by watching the curly prince. He watched as he went to school, as he went to the cinema all by himself to see alien movies, watched as he broke up with the blonde girl, and how he cried himself tonight. But most of all, Iwaizumi loved watching him sleep. After he brushed his teeth and showered, and got into Pajama bottoms, the man would go to bed, seemingly thinking before dozing off to sleep. Iwaizumi touched the glass of the window every night, almost as if longing, cursing the glass which separated them. 

The night had come, and he stepped inside. He leaned over the sleeping frame, his fangs bearing, and his eyes hungry: almost as if he couldn't get enough of the beauty. He was about to bite in, when he large brown eyes opened gently, closer than ever before.

"Finally", the beautiful man whispered.  
Iwaizumi was left puzzled for a second; the man looked peaceful.  
"Aren't you afraid?" His voice was originally meant to be threatening, but surprise overwhelmed it.  
"No, I.." a smile even rose on the other's face, gently morphing the lines of his face into a much more beautiful structure. "I've seen you watching me, following me...For a while now..Ive been afraid at first, but you never approached, so I learned to enjoy your presence, maybe even let it soothe me when I'm alone." The hand found it's way onto Iwaizumi's chest, gently grazing his shirt like Iwaizumi had been grazing the glass all those nights. "I...I want you to eat me, I feel like it's only right.." the man undid the first button of Hajime's shirt, and hid his head into the crook of his neck, almost lovingly. Iwaizumi almost couldn't bear the scent. "I do have a request, though.." Hajime felt him smiling against his neck. "Can I draw you first..? You're so beautiful, I wouldn't want to deny the world your face..They'll think you're a friend, a relative, a lover, when they find my limp body clenching your drawing..Please."  
Iwaizumi had noticed that the man was an art student, and sketching was an important part of his life, so he nodded quietly and sat back onto the bed. The taller man went and reached for his sketch book, moving the pencil over the paper, illuminated by moonlight. Hajime found himself admiring him again, and the time was so close, so close. Once he was done, a gentle smile accessorized his face as he turned the paper around. A well-drawn picture of Iwaizumi's head and shoulders was on it, more beautiful than he was in reality. He looked like a protector, a knight, instead of a life ruiner. Perhaps that's how the man saw him. The curly head then nodded, he sat onto the bead on his heels, and looked at the vampire in expectation. Moonlight danced on the fine lines of his face, his brunette locks tinted silver, just like the first night. The Sketchbook was nearby, resting close, as Iwaizumi moved closer, taking the other's head into his hands and tilting his head to the side to bare his white neck.  
The man's hands rested on his biceps, inviting him in.  
"Be gentle with me, please, and take me to a place better than this broken world", were his last words. Iwaizumi pecked his neck and tenderly bit into the soft skin, the taste overwhelming his every sense, it was as magical as he expected.  
Now he can, again, watch Oikawa Tooru sleep, except it'll be a different kind of slumber this time, the kind from which you can't wake up from.


	21. Day 21: Glances (Indie)

Actions speak louder than words.  
That’s what people always told Oikawa Tooru, and he listened like a puppy, bright-eyed and innocent, and even as he grows and grows more, he remembers the quote that leads him to do what he does.  
After all, he asked his first crush out through actions, a kiss to her temple, and being a fangirl of him like so many others, she squealed and went with him.  
Oikawa was foolish back then. The girl was a fleeting hope, something that drifted within his reach and so he grabbed for her. She didn’t last; all the dates were terrible, awkward moments broken by coughs.   
After all, actions speak louder than words.  
And so Oikawa gave up on her.

Oikawa hasn’t had a crush on a girl since. His friends all scoff when he tells them that but it’s true.  
Nah, he doesn’t have a crush on a girl.  
It’s more like he’s stalking his best friend.

It’s weird.   
Actions speak louder than words, but Iwaizumi Hajime hasn’t noticed yet, those small, wistful glances; Iwaizumi Hajime hasn’t noticed that Oikawa hasn’t dated, not since back then, and Iwaizumi Hajime hasn’t noticed how in love with him his best friend is. He’s not the only one who can’t tell.

Glance at him. Look away. Frown, and glance again.

Iwaizumi gets a girlfriend.  
Actions speak louder than words.  
“I didn’t think anyone would want to date you,” teases Oikawa. “I’d be a much better boyfriend to her than you would.”  
“Do you like her?”  
Oikawa glances at him. He doesn’t reply. There’s nothing to say.  
(Actions might speak, but they’re not always understandable.)

Lost. Lost in his mind, in his own feelings and lost in Iwaizumi. Every little detail of his best friend, picked up at first glance. The crease in his brows when he’s scolding Oikawa, the way his eyes light up and his voice goes high pitched when he’s talking to his girlfriend. Oikawa learns her name from Iwa-chan, Anna Greens. She’s from Europe and learning Japanese, with Iwa-chan helping her. Oikawa learns far more than he wants to know, and he makes sure Iwaizumi knows it, sticking his nose up in the air, turning to the TV while Iwaizumi excitedly tells Oikawa about what she’s like.   
When he realises Oikawa doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to care, he heaves a sigh and leaves Oikawa’s house.  
Oikawa glances back, but he’s long gone.  
Actions speak louder than words.

Broken heart, healed heart. Iwaizumi cries, actually cries over a girl.  
Oikawa holds him, a small, sad smile on his face.  
“Iwa-chan, I never thought I’d ever see you cry over a girl!”  
“…shut UP, dumbass.”  
And Iwaizumi glances up. He’s a mess of tears and mussed up hair, the kind of hair that Oikawa thought only he would ever get on his face.  
Oikawa’s staring. “Hey, Iwa-chan, we’ll find you a new…girlfriend.”  
“I don’t want them,” mumbles Iwaizumi. “I want Anna.”  
He sounds like a complete brat, more annoying than Oikawa on a daily basis. It is understandable though, that he wants his girlfriend back, the girlfriend that probably took his first kiss, but this is so out of character for Iwaizumi Hajime.  
“I see,” says Oikawa softly, and Iwaizumi looks back at his lap.  
Actions speak louder than words.

A cafeteria, two coffees, a boy and a girl, one Japanese and one English.  
She’s lovely. Her British accent is thick, but she knows basic Japanese, and honestly, it doesn’t really matter. She’s very cute. It doesn’t seem like that smile has ever left that face, but everyone cries.  
Oikawa cries more than the average person, and Iwaizumi tells him so.  
“What did you want?” says Anna, stopping between words to remember how to say each word.   
“What happened with Iwa-chan?” says Oikawa carefully. He needs to figure this out.  
Anna is stirring her coffee, but she glances up. “What should I call you?”  
“Tooru,” says Oikawa abruptly.   
“Well, Tooru,” says Anna, smiling a little. “My mother’s a…wait, I need google translate.” She swipes a phone from her pocket and types in a few words. “Thank god for google translate!”  
Oikawa’s getting irritated to say the least, but just when he’s about to say goodbye and give her some money to pay the bill, she puts her phone back in her pocket. “Psychologist,” she says. “She trains me to read people’s feelings. I notice you a lot, Tooru. How long have you known Hajime?”  
“…a long time,” mumbles Oikawa.  
“He doesn’t like you like that,” says Anna matter-of-factly. “But you do. I don’t think I’m fair to keep him to myself. You look at him a lot, and it’s really cute.” She drops money on the table and gets up. “Goodbye…Tooru.”  
She glances back, and her forehead is creased the way Iwa-chan’s is so often.  
Actions speak louder than words.

Creaking door.  
“Hey, Assikawa.”  
Oikawa glances up from his homework. “Iwa-chan.”  
“Anna told me you went to see her. You’re a…great friend. You know that?”  
“Yeah,” says Oikawa, glancing back at his homework. "A great friend.”  
Actions speak louder than words.

Invitations to a coffee shop, waiting girl.  
“Anna…?”  
Anna glances up. “Hey, Tooru. I’m glad you came.”  
Oikawa fixes a smile on his face, not a true one, of course not a true one, because Oikawa doesn’t show his true smiles, not to girls who broke his heart and then his best friend’s. “Your Japanese, it’s getting better, Anna!”  
“You think so?” the girl grins. “I’m glad you think so, but eh. I’m being…tutored…” Her eyes go gooey and Oikawa has to clear his throat. “What do you want?”  
She shakes her head quickly. “Oh! Uhm, well…the thing is…I feel like you always let your actions speak for you.”  
“Huh?”  
“Hajime, you’ve known him so long, so you should’ve noticed what I did, that he’s really oblivious to everything. You glance at him, but he thinks that you’re just playing the part of a worried best friend. He doesn’t get that HE’S the worried best friend, and that you, you’re just really, really stupid.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Admit it.” Anna settles her chin into the palm of her hand. “You idiot in love.”  
Oikawa can’t take anymore, and so he gets up. “Thank you, Anna-chan.”  
Because there’s nothing to say. Nothing to do.

Home. Home, where the heart is. Except Iwa-chan is home, and Iwa-chan is Oikawa’s heart, Oikawa’s everything.  
“Iwa-chan.”  
“Yeah, dumbass?”  
“I l…I love how you always reply so affectionately,” says Oikawa. He plasters on a fake grin, but Iwa-chan isn’t looking.  
He glances away.  
Actions can’t speak if no one sees them.

New coach.  
“It’s Anna-chan,” mutters Oikawa. “Why her? Is she so determined to play matchmaker? Why is she smiling? I thought she loved Iwa-cha–“  
“Oikawa, stop talking to yourself and set the stupid ball!” yells Hanamaki a little late. The ball bounces off of a displeased Oikawa’s nose.  
Iwa-chan is absent today. Oikawa wonders what his reaction would be if he sees that the coach is Anna. Does she even know the rules of volleyball?  
Apparently, and she’s taking over both of their lives. Oikawa never would have thought that it would turn into this.  
Oikawa glances at the floor, and when his eyes flit up, he sees that Anna’s smile has gone. Worried for him.  
Words are not necessary.

“Resign, Anna.”  
“Hajime–“   
“I just–please. I can’t deal with this, not now, maybe not ever. You and my team, they don’t mix, and where did our old coach go any–“  
“He resigned. You need me.”  
“I don’t need you.”  
“Hajime, do you wanna know why I broke up with you?” Anna swallows.  
“I don’t know,” says Iwaizumi and that’s the truth, the whole truth. He has no idea and he’d rather keep it that way.  
But what Anna says next changes his whole perspective. “Tooru.”  
His eyes widen. “What? Are you dating him?”  
“Figure it out yourself,” says Anna, and she walks away, never glancing back.  
Iwaizumi stares at her until she becomes a blur, just a faint memory in the distance. He wonders what’s going on, if she resigned or she gave up or maybe she’s dating Oikawa, or maybe…  
Her actions show it enough; she’s done with him.  
He’s so in love with her.

Porcelain vases. Porcelain animals. Porcelain heart.  
They’re at a museum just to take a break, the team Seijou, except Iwa-chan still isn’t back and Oikawa’s starting to understand that Hajime is probably avoiding either Oikawa or Anna. Both, probably, because both are probably tiring him out and Iwa-chan hates to be tired out.  
“Why’re you in such a bad mood?” says Matsukawa. “Chief Hanamaki, Oikawa Tooru is in a bad mood! I repeat, Oikawa Tooru is in a bad mood! Our captain is–“  
“Shut up, Mattsun, I’m not in a bad mood,” says Oikawa. It’s a lie, a lie to some of his best friends and he regrets it as soon as it slips out.  
Their new coach glances back and sighs. Shakes her head, like she can’t believe how oblivious everyone is.  
But it was her fault in the first place, thinks Oikawa. This whole thing, it’s so stupid, and it’s her fault.  
Oikawa’s getting better at controlling his actions.  
He’s not sure if that’s a good thing.

“Iwa-chan.”  
“…what are you doing here, dumbass?”  
“I love... how you expect us not to miss you at practice. Don’t be so selfish, Iwa-chan!”  
“You were gonna say something else.”  
“I wish you knew, Iwa-chan.”  
“I’ll come back to practice tomorrow. I was feeling unwell.”  
“About what?”  
“Everything.”  
“We really are like soul mates, Iwa-chan.”  
They glance at each other, and it’s the first time ever since someone interfered that they’ve done something so in synch.  
It’s nice. A reminder of happiness. They keep each other sane.

Resignation paper. Two men, gathered. One English girl, hands on hips, a frown on her face.  
“Are you two okay?” she says. “Have you talked?”  
“About what?” says Iwaizumi, and Anna raises an eyebrow. “I’ll get out of here, now.”  
“But we’re okay!” Oikawa practically shouts.   
“That’s not enough.”

“What’s she talking about?” says Iwaizumi, frowning and Oikawa takes a huge breath.  
“I know.”  
“You know? What?”  
“I don’t…Iwa-chan, I’m…”  
“Say what you want to say, dumbass,” says Iwaizumi, that permanent scowl on his face.  
“I like you. And your mean jokes. And your meanness, in general. I like your smile when you’re happy but I’m selfish, y’know?” Oikawa grins wearily. “I wanted that smile to be for meee, Iwa-chan, and you betrayed me. I love you, and that sounds really cheesy and dumb but that’s why I’ve been acting so sad, because I love you Iwa-chan, and it’s not like that. You like Anna. I like her too, but as a friend. She broke up with you for me, and I don’t want that because she made you happy but also…I want it. Your happiness. I don’t want her to take it, I don’t want that, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa’s voice slowly rose. “I save all my smiles for you, so why? I try so hard for you, so why? You are the…only goddamn thing I need, so WHY?”  
Iwaizumi stares. He doesn’t just glance, he stares and then his voice cracks. “I’m–sorry. I can’t return your feelings…Assikawa. I love you. But not like that. And this sounds like a cliche romance movie, doesn’t it? I’ll just–you’re my best friend. You make me happy too, just not like that.”  
And Iwaizumi walks out of the room, but he glances back, so maybe there is some hope.


	22. Day 22: Hand-holding (Nick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another songfic, they're fun uwu

_**I come over, quarter past two** _   
_**Love in my eyes, blinded by you** _

Oikawa wouldn't describe his relationship with Iwaizumi Hajime as a loving one. He came, they slept together, he left. Every night, for months now.

_**Just to get a** _   
_**Taste of heaven** _   
_**I'm on my knees** _

They met in their first year of college, officially, but only got to contact half a year ago, in some bar. A one night stand gone wrong, a quickie which was too good to let go. They weren't together, they weren't not together, Oikawa had a headache.

_**I can't help it, I'm addicted** _   
_**But I can't stand the pain inflected** _

Falling asleep with this man in his arms and then waking up without him, over and over and over again, was slowly driving him insane. He didn't know much about Hajime - his major, English, his age, 20, and his favourite drink - strawberry juice. Yet Oikawa still somehow felt a heartache every time when he woke up alone, almost as if he expected that just this once, he'll stay.

_**In the morning you're not holding** _   
_**Onto me** _

Never once did Iwaizumi asked him how his day was, or if school's hard on him, or if there were any girls interested in him. Never once did he ask Oikawa his favourite colour, or what kind of movies he likes. He sometimes smoked, other times Oikawa would fall asleep too soon, sometimes he'd trash talk some of the teachers. Tooru loved every word that left his mouth.

_**Tell me what's the point of doing this every night** _   
_**What you're giving me is nothing but a heartless lullaby** _

He found himself wanting more, wanting Hajime to hold his hand after they were done, wanting him to mean it when he whispered half-conscious I love yous and you're the only ones.

_**You're gonna kill my dreams, oh** _   
_**This is the last time** _   
_**Baby make up your mind** _

Sometimes Oikawa likes to pretend he's strong enough to give the other up.

_**Cause I can't keep sleeping in your bed** _   
_**If you keep messing with my head** _

Every time he got back from class and took a shower, expecting him, Oikawa wondered. Wondered what it'd be like if Hajime loved him, if he knew that Tooru always, always got attached.

**_Before I slip under your sheets_ **   
**_Can you give me something, please_ **

Those thoughs always seemed to vanish Iwaizumi actually got there, lost in wet kisses and racing hearts. Out of adrenaline, desire, excitement, but not love. Never love. It made Oikawa want to cry.

 _ **I can't keep touching you like this**_  
 _ **If it's just temporary blis**_ s

And he did cry, every morning. Wishing they had more, or nothing at all, he was never sure. The bed was always too cold in the morning to tell.

_**I am fending for the sunshine** _   
_**To show our love in a good light** _

He never lost hope, though. Maybe he couldn't. Not while his one and only kept coming back, kept loving him the most loveless way possible, all the time, every time. It killed him, but they were happy, in his wildest daydreams if nothing. They held hands.

_**Give me a reason** _   
_**I am pleading** _   
_**Just to stay** _

"Hajime, do you love me?", he asked one night.  
"I love sleeping with you", was all the other muttered into the pillow, half-asleep already.  
It hurt.

_**Tell me what's the point of doing this every night** _   
_**What you're giving me is nothing but a heartless lullaby** _   
_**Gonna kill my dreams, oh** _   
_**This is the last time, baby make up your mind..** _

Oikawa found himself in too deep. He thought about him non-stop. In classes, in practice, at home, with friends, alone. He wanted to intertwine their fingers and squeeze his hand, he wanted to walk next to him in parks and take pictures with him in photo booths, where they'd kiss and maybe, just maybe frame one of them.

_**I'm your one and only** _   
_**Only when you're lonely** _

Hajime went to another college, nearby, so Tooru didn't see him during the day. However, at night, when he went out with his friends, he sometimes saw him. Never greeted, though, Iwaizumi was never alone. Sometimes women, sometimes men, he was always laughing, drinking, dancing, happy without Tooru. He didn't need him to hold his hand the way Oikawa needed him.

_**I'm your one and only, only when you're lonely** _   
_**Baby why're you calling me** _

Oikawa wondered why Hajime had picked him over all the attractive guys in his campus more often than not. The sex was good? Yes, but you can have that with other people. It wasn't his personality, that's for sure, Iwaizumi knew nothing about him.

_**Not another one, not** _   
_**Trying to be your whole life** _

Tooru wanted Hajime to miss him during the day. He wanted him to crave him during the day, enough so he stays for the morning. He wanted him to need their fingers intertwined, their lips pressed together for more than just foreplay. He wanted Hajime to think about him, and to look forward to seeing him that night. Iwaizumi never felt that way.

_**I can't keep sleeping in your bed** _   
_**If you keep messing with my head** _   
_**Before I slip under your sheets,** _   
_**Can you give me something, please?** _

As time went on, it went on harder and harder for Oikawa, who started to live for those visits, live for those hands in his hair was sweet pleasure buzzed trough his body. He hasn't loved someone for quite some time, which changed with this overwhelming presence which was Iwaizumi. Tooru tried to ask him little questions about him, telling him things about himself in return. Iwaizumi sometimes smiled, talked more often, and sometimes held Tooru's had as they fell asleep.  
He almost dared to hope in more than his daydreams.

_**I can't keep touching you like this** _   
_**If it's just temporary bliss** _

Oikawa's heart still filled with warmth every time he saw him, and now maybe he thought that maybe, just maybe his feelings could be returned. That night Iwaizumi told him about his family, and his dreams for the future. Oikawa couldn't imagine his future without him, but he didn't say that. He didn't want to spoil this breakable, fragile communication they shared. He wanted to scream to Hajime that he loved him, that he wanted their fingers to stay intertwined at all times. He was happy.

**_Temporary bliss......._ **

"Hajime?" Oikawa's head was on his bare shoulder, his bangs messy and a honest smile playing on his face.  
"Hmm?", was the only response.  
"Will you stay tonight?", the taller asked, his voice filled with hope and love and all those dreams he had of two of them marching together trough life, hand in hand.  
"You know I can't."

_**I can't keep sleeping in your bed,** _   
_**If you keep messing with my head,** _   
_**I can't keep feeling love like this** _

Tooru missed classes tomorrow. First he cried, for hours into the morning. After he composed himself, he went ahead and visited Hajime's campus. He found him after looking and looking, sitting on a bench, some cheery redhead man in his lap, laughing at something Oikawa's love just said. Once Iwaizumi spot him, he apologized to his sweetheart with a kiss pressed to his cheek and words which were without doubt promises of his quick return, something he never gave to Tooru.  
Once he was there, Oikawa's throat refused to cooperate. Tears almost filled his big, brown eyes, almost.  
"Don't come tonight", his voice was lacking any emotion. "Don't come ever again. I've had enough."  
"....Okay."  
He left, and Oikawa knew Iwaizumi isn't going to chase after him. It hurt, knowing he'll never hold his hand again.

_**It's not worth temporary bliss.** _


	23. Day 23: Jealousy (Indie)

"Iwa-chan, please," begged Oikawa. "Just today, please, please don't leave me."  
"Don't worry, Assikawa," mumbled Iwaizumi. "I'm not doing anything?"  
"Then why don't you ever take me?" Oikawa's answer was abrupt but you could feel the heavy note behind it. Tired; Oikawa was tired of making excuses for his boyfriend because he had perfect reason to be jealous.  
After all, Iwa-chan left him. Every single night, to go to a bar and possibly meet strangers. Maybe Iwa-chan even had a new boyfriend and the thought filled Oikawa with dread because no, no, no, Iwa-chan wouldn't do that, Iwa-chan was his.  
But maybe more people fell for Hajime. He wasn't particularly striking, nor did he have a sweet personality to make up for his ordinary looks, but Oikawa knew that there was something about Iwa-chan that drew people to him.  
(Except Oikawa always thought he would be the only one in love with Hajime.)

Iwa-chan left.

-

Put a movie on, except it's not fun without Hajime. Flick through the TV, except everything gave Oikawa a headache right then. Read through articles about dealing with jealousy, give up and watch the movie again.

Oikawa didn't know what to do.

-

Iwaizumi Hajime came home glowing, actually glowing, something Oikawa thought was impossible.  
"How was the club?" he asked, lying on their bed and tossing the volleyball up.  
"Fine," said Iwaizumi, except he sounded far more than just fine and that hurt Oikawa.  
"Mm," mumbled Oikawa. "Hey, Iwa-"  
"Oikawa, I'm gonna sleep on the floor today, okay?"  
Oikawa's voice was shaky and unbalanced as he replied, "Okay."  
Not okay. Burning with jealously. Burning with anger. Wishing love didn't exist.

-

"Iwa-chan, do you really have to go?" said Oikawa, his lower lip trembling like it so often did when they were mere kids.  
"Yeah." On second thought, Iwaizumi reached out and ruffled the setter's hair. "It's just to get a few drinks. You know I love you."  
"Yeah," echoed Oikawa. "I know."  
Lies.

-

Invite a girl over. Kiss her and then show her out. Lie down in bed, wondering why the jealousy was gnawing away at him so hard. Squeeze your eyes shut and whisper, "what the hell is going on?" Play with a ball. Attempt to distract yourself. Fail at distracting yourself.

-

"Oikawa, I'm sleeping on the floor again, okay?"  
"I could buy a new mattress. A new bed. A new pillow. Or cover. What makes you happy, Iwa-chan? Please sleep here."  
"I heard from my friends at the club that sleeping on the floor is good for your backs. I love you."  
Those three words become meaningless when you know they're not meant.

-

"Iwa-chan, d'you know how jealous I am of your club friends? These days, they see you even more than I do!"  
"...dumbass, I had to look at your ugly face all throughout childhood! Give me a break."  
"Yeah."

-

Heat up noodles. Make salad by cutting tomatoes and almost slicing off your fingers. Dump the tomatoes in the bowl with lettuce and lemon. Take out a book. Drop the book. Too much romance. Jealousy.

-

"Iwa-chan, does he run his fingers through your hair? I wish you still let me do that."  
"There's no he. It's just you, Oikawa. You know that! Don't be so..." he struggled for a word. "Jealous. It makes me feel like a possession."  
"Okay," said Oikawa.

-

Middle of the night. Slip out of bed and onto the floor next to Iwa-chan. He sleeps soundly. It's kinda beautiful.  
"I'm so envious and I hate it," muttered Oikawa. "I wish you didn't give me a reason to be."  
He pressed his lips to Iwaizumi's forehead.

-

Sitting in an office, 7am when half the world is asleep and the rest doesn't care about your problems, but Iwa-chan, gone, left before Oikawa could whine about him leaving.  
"What are your problems?"  
Oikawa couldn't believe he was actually doing this.  
"Uhm," Oikawa muttered. "My boyfriend, he...every morning. He leaves me. He leaves me to wait at home. And that's all I do, I wait," he said in a rush. "And I'm so fucking jealous, because fuck, I know he's hiding something, he never lets me come and he sleeps on the floor now. I don't want to admit anything to myself. Don't make me, please."

-

Back at 12am, thinking his boyfriend might be asleep but no, Oikawa would always wait, always, always.  
"Oikawa, are you awake?" whispered Iwaizumi, poking his head into the room.   
Heavy breathing. A loud sigh. "Iwa-chan, you're alone, aren't you?"  
"Don't be so jealous." Iwaizumi walked over to Oikawa's, no, their bed and lay down next to the other man.   
Iwaizumi fell asleep first, two minutes later.  
"I love you, Iwa-chan, but I don't think I'm the only one who does," said Oikawa bitterly.  
He fell asleep too.

-

Wake up in Iwa-chan's arms. Pretend you're still asleep. Let him leave.  
Follow him.

Jealousy, taken too far.

-

Hand in hand with a boy, laughing at something a girl's saying.  
Meaningless.

-

"Hey, Kii-chan, let's go," said Iwaizumi. "I need to make it home by 11, my friend's waiting."  
Not anymore, Iwa-chan.

-

11 at night. Two fake smiles, one sad and one happy and both fake.  
"I love you, Oikawa."  
"Nah, Iwa-chan, I love you."  
"Wh-"  
"I'm jealous of that girl but I love you, and I think you're done with me."  
"Oikawa?"  
"Who was that guy? Who was that girl?" Oikawa's voice rose. "Who's good enough to replace me?" He laughed. A bitter laugh. "It's not a jealousy, Iwa-chan, it's real. Your heart isn't only mine. Okay? I wish it was, but it's not, and you're done with me, but I'm not done with you, so leave if you have to. This is my home. If you want to leave me, you can live with other people, maybe sleep in their beds every single night, right? And I'll date more girls, and you won't be jealous, right? You don't need me, right?"

-

Empty office. Pen and paper. Letter to a therapist. Sundays are their days off.

-

On Sundays, the clubs are closed. This Sunday, the house is empty.


	24. Day 24: Oikawa Recites Poetry (Indie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is lego house by ed sheeran. nick-senpai couldnt write today so I got this uwu enjoy hopefully??

It's Monday. Mondays are the worst; Iwaizumi works late on Mondays and Oikawa has to murmur poetry to himself as he tosses a volleyball to himself and thinks bad things to himself.  
Sometimes, Oikawa realises how lost he would be without Iwaizumi.  
It's Monday and it's raining, the small, crystal droplets splattering the window of their house. Nothing can be heard but the rain's steady pitter-patter, and the words Oikawa mutters to himself. Both are beautiful. It would be nice if someone else was here to hear it.  
Mondays are the worst, because Oikawa is trapped at home, nose pressed against the window, waiting for Iwaizumi to make enough money so he can come home already.  
As soon as the thought occurs, Oikawa hears the sound of a key, of a creaking door. He runs fast to the door, waits for it to open.  
"Welcome home, Iwa-chan."  
"Sing," says Hajime and that's all. "Read to me. Please."  
There are rare few times that Iwaizumi Hajime will say "please" to Oikawa. Only Mondays, when he's tired and he needs salvation because of it.  
Oikawa doesn't question it. It's Monday. Reciting poetry to his best friend on Mondays is just part of weekly routine, not a thing that Oikawa complains over.  
"I'm gonna pick up the pieces," he says softly. "And build a lego house. If things go wrong, we can knock it down."  
Iwaizumi loses himself in Oikawa's steady words, and his head settles into his partners lap.  
It's Monday. Mondays are the worst, but also the best.

-

It's Tuesday. On Tuesday, it's Oikawa's turn to suffer. Long lines at the supermarket, everyone cutting, teenagers trying to buy drugs, rude children problems left and right.  
Tuesdays are almost as bad as Mondays. The thing is, though, Tuesdays have one little thing that separates them from Mondays; the texts.  
Oikawa keeps his phone on his all the time, and so it rings all the time. At first sight, Iwaizumi doesn't seem like such a needy person, but text after text of "I miss you" and "sing to me when you come home" says differently.  
Tuesdays are different. On Tuesdays, Oikawa works until 9:30, and he doesn't even get to have Iwaizumi's head in his lap.  
Instead, they text. It's not the same. Of course not, it's different.  
"My three words have two meanings," continues Oikawa, this time via text, "but there's one thing on my mind."  
He pauses, presses send, deals with all the people swearing at him for taking too long. Sometimes, he wishes money wasn't a necessity.  
The supermarket clears, and Oikawa sends one last text. "It's all for you. Iwa-chan."  
He puts his phone back in his pocket. More people line up at the cashier.  
Order after order; "chocolate tart please", "hey, that's too expensive", "you're hot, can I have your number?"  
Sometimes, Oikawa gets lost in a sea of "yes" and "no". Honestly, he just wants to get home and say songs for Iwaizumi. Not sing, never sing, because the lyrics tell a story while the instrumental music is life.  
Life is too fragile to be messed up. Oikawa lives in fear of ruining his life.

On Tuesdays, Iwaizumi doesn't get to listen to Oikawa's lulling voice, putting him to sleep. Instead, they text, and it's pretty unromantic, considering that Oikawa's at a supermarket all the time, listening to little kids swear at him, taking orders from adults.  
Tuesdays are different.

-

Wednesdays are scary. On Wednesdays, Iwaizumi goes on business trips. He travels in a plane. Oikawa hates planes. His sister died in one, many years ago, and he'll never forget that.  
On Wednesdays, Oikawa and Iwaizumi both wake up early, earlier than the world. Oikawa takes out a tape recorder, takes Iwaizumi's hand, and continues his poetry.

"And it's dark in a cold December, but I've got you to keep me warm," he mutters, and Iwaizumi finishes it for him because he's heard it so many times. He loves that so much.  
"If you're broken I will mend you, and keep you sheltered from the storm that's raging on, now."  
They relish each other's warmth, but Iwaizumi's flight is soon.  
It's Wednesday, and Wednesdays are scary. Slow dancing around a room at 4am, "I don't want you to leave me"s murmured in low voices, sweet kisses, and finally, plane departure.  
Oikawa dreads Wednesdays. He always watches as the plane descends into the sky and a little voice in his head wonders if maybe, just maybe this time, this week, it would crash into another. Fate works like fate works. When people are so far into the sky, they are blinded. You can't know, not ever.  
Or maybe that's just Oikawa's inner fear speaking. After all, Oikawa is scared, scared that the plane will crash, that the tape recording of his poetry will never make it back home.  
Every Wednesday. Dread. Relief. Dread. Relief. Ups and downs and happiness and stress and fake smiles and genuine smiles and Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime and poems.  
"I'm out of touch," says Oikawa, staring as the plane disappears into the clouds. "I'm out of love."  
Calls from England. Confessions through phones in the middle of the night. Waiting for your boyfriend to return so you can kiss his forehead and tell him you miss him. Dreading next Wednesday.

-

It's finally Thursday, Thursday which is only better than Wednesday by the smallest margin. Thursday is weird.  
On Thursdays, they go their separate ways. Neither is stuck at home, agonising. They're too busy.  
On Thursdays, Iwaizumi enjoys going out with old friends. Oikawa prefers getting wasted at the club.  
Thursday is their day off, but for some reason, they never use it to spend time with each other. It's tradition, basically, that Thursday is the day where Oikawa gets drunk and Iwaizumi has to drag him home, and the day ends in their bed, tangled up, without most of their clothes on.  
Honestly, Thursdays are Iwaizumi's second favourite day of the week. It's the day that Oikawa recites more than usual poetry. It's the day they get to be together at night but know of each other's safety at mornings.  
It's a secret, but Iwaizumi likes drunk Oikawa sometimes. After all, drunk, he rattles off line after line of garbled nonsense, but in there, Iwaizumi can find genuine things too; "Hajime, fuck you, you're too nice, you're too fucking perfect, FUCK"---"god, you're beautiful, you know?"  
On Thursdays, Iwaizumi takes care of Oikawa. It's not like that's anything out of the ordinary. Taking care of Oikawa is something Iwaizumi is all too used to.  
But on Thursday, he lies with Oikawa until his headache clears and he's sober, and the day ends in whispered poetry verses and also sex, and love, and kissing.  
"I'll pick you up when you're getting down," whispers Oikawa when he thinks Hajime's asleep. "And out of all these things I've done, I think I love you better now. I'm out of sight, I'm out of mind, I'll do it all for you in time. And out of all these things I've done, I think I love you better now, now."  
Thursdays are weird. They're also Iwaizumi's second favourite day of the week.

-

On Fridays, both Iwaizumi and Oikawa have fun. Friday is Oikawa's part time job as a singer.  
He doesn't like to sing with melodies and they both know it, know that he feels like a melody is life, and messing up a melody is messing up life.  
Oikawa has messed up his own life so many times, after all. His voice has cracked when trying to sing so many times, after all.  
Fridays are fun. Oikawa goes on stage and hams it up, and Iwaizumi gets to listen.  
Oikawa never sings the song that he tells to Iwaizumi every day. That song, that, that's a secret between them, a bond of trust, formed the day Oikawa and Iwaizumi met in Little Tykes' volleyball.  
Oikawa sings silly songs instead. He is a pretty silly guy, after all, and those laughable songs make fangirls squeal. It's enough to earn money.  
On Fridays, Oikawa doesn't recite poetry right away. Not at his job, never at his job. The way he sees it, that would be betraying his boyfriend's trust.  
"I adore youuuu!" sings Oikawa instead, and the fangirls lap it up, caught in a web of lust and addiction but not love because you need to know someone to love them.  
(Iwaizumi knows Oikawa all too well. He knows what colour his toothbrush is, and the TV shows Oikawa watches, and the difference between Oikawa's real smile and Oikawa's fake smile.  
The one on stage is fake.)  
But it's fun. Oikawa has fun dancing around a stage, singing songs he finds meaningless. After all, if the song doesn't matter, then neither does the heart of the song, the melody, and so if the melody is messed up, Oikawa's life isn't.  
Oikawa doesn't know that Iwaizumi attends these performances, of course he doesn't, he doesn't know that Iwaizumi likes his singing voice so much that he will even listen to music that Oikawa finds meaningless.  
Iwaizumi always leaves the concert one hour before Oikawa. He knows what he has waiting at night. Beautiful spoken poetry by a beautiful man.  
"I'm gonna paint you by numbers and colour you in, if things go right, we can frame it and put you on a wall," says Oikawa. He doesn't sing, not with this, but his voice is far from dead. It's so happy.  
"And it's so hard to say it but I've been here before. Now I'll surrender up my heart and swap it for yours," finishes Iwaizumi. He knows it by heart. All of it.  
And then Oikawa smiles.  
Fridays are fun.

-

Saturdays are exhausting.  
Worn out but still going hard. Oikawa and Iwaizumi have to go to so many places on Saturdays, but they go together and that's nice, but it's still so exhausting. By the end of the day, neither of them are in a fit state.  
Drive to the dog pound and pay a dog's bill. Help a teacher grade papers. Drive for hours after a teenager's curfew. Play volleyball. Buy chocolate. Make out in the car. Repeat.  
This Saturday is particularly exhausting. Oikawa doesn't even know how it happens, but some newspaper guy wants he and Iwaizumi to come to Tokyo and debate over whether nature is more important than electricity. It is, of course it is, and Oikawa can't even imagine who would come up with an argument like such. The way Oikawa sees it, if there aren't trees, there's no happiness. For that matter, there's no oxygen either. If there's no nature, there's no Iwaizumi, there's no Oikawa.  
When Oikawa tells his lover so, the spiker agrees. "It's stupid," he says. "But so are you. Usually."  
"Usually is the most important word in that sentence, Iwa-chan," says Oikawa, trying to sound cheerful.

As expected, the debate is ridiculous. The matter at hand had been brought up by a female idol and that's why the newspaper man had been so determined to have the boyfriends debate over it with the lady. Fan service, pretty girl, two pretty boys dating, and a ridiculous argument. What could be better? Nothing except for basically everything.

Tokyo is further from Miyagi than Oikawa and Iwaizumi want. After all, they have more things to do. On Oikawa's schedule is joining an artist named Akaashi to draw things - "I want to draw you, Iwa-chan. You're so cute" - and on Iwaizumi's schedule is helping a 15 year old girl write a persuasive essay. Of course, the minute Oikawa finds out it's a girl, he tags along amidst Iwaizumi's protests of "she's 15, you dumbass, what kind of person do you think I am?"  
That finishes quickly. Then they're in the car again, lips on each other, and so exhausted that the last thing Oikawa says before they fall asleep is, "I'm out of touch, I'm out of love, I'll pick you up when you're getting down..." and the last thing Iwaizumi says is "And out of all these things I've done, I think I love you better now..." and then they both pass out, small smiles on their faces.  
It's been exhausting, but tomorrow's Sunday.

-

Sundays are the best.  
Sundays are spent at home in bed in each other's arms. Sundays are sweet kisses and laughter and pure bliss. Sundays are poems. Sundays are peace. Sundays are alien movies and volleyball and childhood memories. Sundays are arguments over the TV when neither one actually cares because what the hell, it's all in good fun.  
Sundays are fucking beautiful and Tooru Oikawa loves them. So does Hajime, though he often pretends not to.

Kisses to Oikawa's ear. Strokes to Hajime's hair. Their only worry is that tomorrow is Monday, and that's only something vague in their minds.  
Today is both their favourite days. It's when Oikawa is in the best mood and recites the most poetry and Iwaizumi blesses the English singer Ed Sheeran's soul for writing that song.  
Sometimes, Oikawa even adds a little melody and it's so beautiful, it makes Iwaizumi want to cry. Oikawa reciting poetry is amazing; Oikawa singing is the best. It could make anyone feel powerful, invincible, but it's not something Oikawa shows to everyone, it's something for Hajime and only Hajime, because the sound of music is life. Life is frail. Life is not something to be regained, and so it's something one should treasure.  
(Oikawa and Iwaizumi treasure each other's lives far more than their own.)  
On Sundays, Oikawa thinks, screw that. On Sundays, in between whispers and arguments and play fights and kisses all over their bodies, Oikawa adds some quiet melody to Ed Sheeran's song.  
But maybe that's just Hajime's imagination.

 

"I'm out of sight, I'm out of mind  
I'll do it all for you in time  
And out of all these things I've done, I think I love you better now  
Don't hold me down, I think the braces are breaking and it's more than I can take

And it's dark in a cold December, but I've got you to keep me warm  
If you're broken I will mend ya and keep you sheltered from the storm that's raging on, now

I'm out of touch, I'm out of love  
I'll pick you up when you're getting down  
And out of all these things I've done, I think I love you better now  
I'm out of sight, I'm out of mind,  
I'll do it all for you in time  
And out of all these things I've done, I think I love you better now  
I'm out of touch, I'm out of love  
I'll pick you up when you're getting down.  
And out of all these things I've done, I will love you better now."


	25. Day 25: Matching sweaters (Nick)

Day 25: Matching sweaters  
Oikawa Tooru knew he was a mess. He knew, he never denied it. He only had one friend, he always acted weird in crowds, he got panic attacks in most uncomfortable moments.  
He had anxiety, never allowing him to become a normal, social human being.  
He was fairly attractive, and girls noticed, but he stopped getting confession letters halfway trough the first year, when more or less everyone knew he was an outcast. People tried to make friends with him, at first, but usually gave up after their first time in a crowd, when Oikawa started sweating, wheezing and panicking over every movement. They all abandoned him, left him because he was weird, ditched him into isolation of solitude.  
All except for him.  
Iwaizumi Hajime was popular, ace of the volleyball team, even though he was only a first year, wanted among the ladies and with fairly good grades. He wasn't nearly as attractive as Tooru, but he was kind, and funny, and temperament, and well. He didn't have social issues.  
That's why Oikawa could never put his finger on why he had chosen to befriend him, to sit next him during class, to eat lunch with him on the roof, to hold his hand when he got nervous around people. When people stopped trying to get close to Tooru, and he started walking alone, Iwaizumi just slipped into his life like he was there all along. He started carrying his books, waiting by his locker, taking the extra bus station to make sure Oikawa was home safely; and doing all that like it was the most natural thing in the world. He even had Oikawa join the volleyball team, which he turned out to be a natural in. The boys from the club were kind to him, the coach encouraged him, the senpai pat his head. He had started feeling like he finally belonged somewhere, with all his flaws. He tossed the ball, they hit it, nobody mocked him. Those tosses, which became his main occupation, soon earned him a spot on the start lineup. He almost died from fear on his first game with a crowd, but as soon as the ball grazed his fingers, everyone else disappeared. The ball, the team, the angle, the blockers, the ace, those were things that mattered.  
They had won, and his teammates were hugging him, and he was crying, like he cried every night, except these tears felt good.

Time went on, and he even started opening up a little. He even volunteered for a project in class, which you have to present in front of the class.  
However, the same day, in the evening, is when the bullying started.  
He was alone after practice, Iwaizumi, who always walked him home, stayed behind to lock the gym. They were supposed to meet on the bus station, but others found him first.  
There were five of them; five boys and a girl, all seemingly older than him. They pushed him against the wall and told him things he's too afraid to remember, and he remembers his jaw stinging from someone's fist the same time he felt someone's spit on his face. They left soon, finally, and he remembers shaking and taking the bus without Hajime, sitting in the back alone.  
The next morning Iwaizumi asked why didn't he wait, but he shrugged it off and said he forgot. The ace didn't look convinced, but he seemingly let it go, since he didn't ask any more questions.

The group came back from time to time, others came too, he stopped counting. They usually hit his stomach; Iwaizumi couldn't see the bruises on his chest and his heart over his T-shirt the following morning. Oikawa just thought it was only right, he wasn't like the others, it was his problem to suffer trough, and not share it.  
Days passed, nobody found out, nobody heard him cry at night.  
One day, at the end of second year, it was particularly nasty. He was sitting on his bed, shoulders shaking and sobbing into his hands. The clock on his nightstand showed midnight, maybe a few minutes more, when the thought crossed his mind.  
What if he just escaped it all?  
Endless possibilities flashed in his conscious; knives in the kitchen, the open window, the boat rope in his father's closet, the painkillers in the drawer. The closest possibility, and the most fatal one, was as clear as a day to him. And the closest, ironically. He reached his hand out,grabbing his phone. His fingers were shaky as he picked the number; he actually typed it wrong a couple of times.  
As the phone rung, Tooru asked himself why on earth he'd be awake now, at this time, and why he was awake himself.  
"Yeah?", the voice on the other side of the line was raspy, sleepy, as if just awoken from sleep; reasonable.  
"I-Iwa-chan..", Oikawa somehow managed between sobs.  
"What's wrong?" The tone was now filled with patience, kindness and soft notes, worry perhaps.  
"I'm scared." He sniffed into the phone, his own tone barely above a whisper.  
"What are you scared of?"  
Another few choked sobs left Tooru's throat, he wouldn't cry if Iwaizumi was here for real, he knew. Not because he couldn't, shouldn't, felt ashamed to, but he never simply never felt the need to. When Hajime was here, the goods simply always outweighed the bads, and he didn't cry.  
"Everything. I'm scared of everything."  
Hajime spent the rest of the night mumbling sweet nothings into his ear, lies about how beautiful he was or how he brought sunshine to his everyday life. 

The next day, when Iwaizumi came to pick him up for school, he found himself wrapped up in a warm embrace, tight but gentle. Tooru even laughed a little that day as his own arms wrapped around the other, just from pure joy. Iwa-chan got more physical with him since that day, holding his hand under the desk, feeding him bits of his own bentou with his own chopsticks during lunch, hugging him every night before he stepped inside his house.  
The bullying also decreased, he was rarely alone now.

This man was his hero, Oikawa realized way too late, when his heart already started doing betraying backflips every time he saw him. When he already started enjoying Iwaizumi's arm around his shoulders in public places to calm him, or his fingers in Tooru's hair whenever they saw a movie on his old couch, because he knew it relaxed him, way more than he should've.  
He didn't do anything about it, no. He never could.  
Months passed like this, and even though Oikawa knew he was living the dream, smiling and being smiled at each passing day, the human tendency to always greed for more got to him often. Iwaizumi could never love him, he knew that too. Nobody could. It was okay, though. He was okay. 

One morning, Oikawa heard knocking on his back door, much like every other day. He was still in his pajamas; light grey bottoms and an old white T-shirt which had the UFO pattern everywhere, and bunny slippers. Faint tapping could be heard as he rushed out of his room, down the stairs, trough the hall. Once he opened the door, a warm smile graced his face, small but present every morning. Iwaizumi had a paper bag in his hand and an excited look on his face. It was Saturday, and Tooru didn't expect to see him until lunch, yet there he was, at a time so early Oikawa's parents were still asleep.  
"Iwa-chan, come in." He stepped to the side happily, letting the other in.  
"Goodmorning, Bratikawa ~" Tooru felt lips press to his cheek as his friend slid into the living room, placing the bag onto the coffee table. "I got you something."  
Oikawa wasn't surprised: this guy bought him little gifts to make him happy whenever he could.  
Iwaizumi reached into the bag, and pulled out a navy blue sweater. He showed it, and Oikawa read large white letters:

STEP ASIDE  
I AM  
HIS  
\-------->

Then he pulled out another one, almost the same, except the sign was a tad different;

STEP ASIDE  
I AM  
HIS  


Oikawa's face flushed, and he opened his mouth to say something, but really, he didn't have time. Iwaizumi was in his lap in a flash, holding his face in his fingers and pressing their lips together. Tooru, in lack of experience and a clear head, just placed his hands on Iwaizumi's arms, and tried to press back against chapped lips the best he could. It was too short, he complained many years later, for a proper first kiss. A second later, Iwaizumi was pulling his shirt over his head and pulling one of the sweaters on. Then his hands reached for Tooru's T-shirt, swiftly peeling it off. A wave of panic flashed trough Oikawa's body, but Hajime just pressed a little peck at the curve of his neck before he pulled the other sweater over the brunette head. His lips then found the setter's nose, cheeks, temples, then lips again and again and again.   
After what seemed like a sweet, sweet forever he got up. Tooru noticed his cheeks were, also, tinted the lightest shade of pink as he cleared his throat and fixed his sweater.  
"Put some proper pants on, moron", Iwaizumi mumbled, "we're going to the premiere of that dumb alien movie."  
Tooru sparkled. Almost literally.   
"But Iwa-chan, it's nine am. It's in eleven hours."  
A mysterious smile appeared on Iwaizumi's face as he leaned down to whisper into his sweetheart's ear:  
"Then, love, that gives me eleven hours to take you to every single nice place in the town and kiss you there."  
They kissed a lot that day, and their intertwined fingers never left each other (except that one time Iwaizumi had to pee) as they walked trough streets of their hometown, arrows on their matching sweaters pointing at each other.


	26. Day 26: Locker room (Nick)

"Iwa-chan, I found your keys, come on!" Oikawa's voice rang trough the hallway. "That means you're driving!"  
"Hooray", clear enthusiasm could be heard in Iwaizumi's voice. "I love driving you places." He took his keys and Oikawa's collar, dragging both out of their apartment. Once he locked, he smacked his boyfriend upside the head, like he did so many times in high school.  
"You're too excited."  
"You love me when I'm excited."  
"Too excited."  
They were walking towards the garage, where their cars were parked. Since they attend the same college, it was hard to drive around in just one car; they sucked it up last summer and bought another one.   
Iwaizumi unlocked the car, sat at the driver's seat and feddled with his seatbelt as Oikawa plopped down next to him. Then he drove, out of their building and onto the road.  
They were going to the gym, their old high school team was playing Karasuno in a practice match today. It's been a while since they last visited good old Seijou, the only familiar faces there were now third years, Kindaichi and Kunimi. They sometimes saw Makki and Matsun, though they were living in other cities. They didn't know where Kyoutani or Watari ended up, but Yahaba was attending a college in Washington. Playing Karasuno had become a sort of a taboo for Aobajousai, sometimes they'd win, sometimes not. Oikawa's heart still stung from his last high school match even now, two years later.   
The school looked the same, Tooru was entirely different. Iwaizumi held his hand as they climbed up on the second floor. The game had already started, they were tied at a 5:5 at the first set. Oikawa took his time to absorb his old Kouhais - Kindaichi was even taller, his turnip was nowhere to be seen, now replaced with a cool quifflike hairstyle. Kunimi had a tattoo - a pair of seraph wings on the inside of his wrist, Oikawa noticed when he went to receive a ball. The crows were more familiar, there Tobio-chan was, same as always. Time hadn't effected him in almost any way, as far he could see. Slick black hair, around similar height, perfect tosses.   
Hinata Shouyou, much to Tooru's amusement and probably his sorrow, hasn't grown much. 170cm at most, he thought. At least some things haven't changed. He still had untamed orange locks and zipped faster than the speed of sound.   
Tsukishima was more or less the same, except his hair was longer, and Oikawa was happy to see that that shaky cowardly pinch server they drew in both of their official games, was a starter now.   
The ball flew across the net, new libero received it, new setter tossed it, Kindaichi slammed it down.   
"Dummy", Oikawa said subconsciously, "he doesn't like his toss like that."  
"Well, he's probably the ace now", he was almost surprised to hear Iwaizumi, in all his noticing Tooru almost forgot about him, "he's supposed to hit any toss sent at him."  
But of course, he couldn't ignore the warmth from where their fingers were still intertwined, the gaze he felt at the side of his head or the general presence of Iwaizumi Hajime: the more time they spent together, the more Oikawa couldn't get enough of him.  
The game passed quickly; Aobajousai won. They had a splendid new libero, a new foreign blocker that was at least 2m tall, but looked like a sweetheart, and a new spiker who did miracles with his eyes, feinting to distract the opponents. The pair met them later, heard great stories of winning and losing and hoping. In the end, only their old teammates stayed, and they hugged and Kindaichi cried and Kunimi was the captain, but he said he'll never be as good as Oikawa was and how he misses him every day, and Iwaizumi told them that they made a great new team and that they should come by for dinner sometime. They even talked to the crows: Oikawa praised Yamaguchi's serves for half an hour and hugged Kageyama at least ten times, while Hinata was bugging Iwaizumi to tell him more secrets to being the ace and bragging to him on how they managed to beat Shiratorizawa. Tsukishima was also unbelievably talkative, telling them on what new stars and veterans they missed, the new stars of the Iron Wall and how that Russian first-year from Nekoma was now the best ace in prefecture. They said their goodbyes later, exchanging phone numbers and promises of soon meeting again, and Oikawa headed back to the car, when Iwaizumi caught his hand and pulled back.  
"I...Want to see the old club room."  
Tooru was afraid this might happen. That room held more memories than any other room in the world not including their apartment.   
"Let's go, then."  
He'd still remember for Hajime. He'd do anything for him, in the end.  
The room looked exactly the same as the day they left, empty, grey, open window. Volleyball calendar on the wall, the very same clock. Oikawa's heart hurt, but he sat down onto the floor next to the other, fingers intertwining and backs leaning against the lockers.  
"Brings back quite a few memories, huh.. "  
"You could say that again."  
"Brings back quite a f- "  
"Assikawa, you know what I mean."

It indeed brought back too many memories, nothing Oikawa hadn't expected.   
Like that one time Makki brought a cat from the street in, and everyone was fascinated by it. They named it Mittens, and all wanted to keep it. In the end, Watari brought it home, since they couldn't keep it in here. Everyone was gloomy for the following week, the libero had talked about it every day.   
Or that time Kuroo invited them to Tokyo, but they had tests they had to pass first, and how Yahaba caught him alone in this very locker room after everyone had left.  
"Senpai.. I failed!!" He was crying already, and Oikawa gave himself the liberty to wrap his arms around the backup setter, lowering them both onto the floor, much like he and Iwaizumi were sitting now.   
"Don't worry, it's okay.." Tooru recalls his fingers running trough dark blonde hair, over and over, soothing the backup setter almost to sleep.  
"It doesn't matter that I can't go anyway, does it?" His voice was sad, but not bitter. "You're the setter. I'm just a bench warmer anyway."  
"Don't say that", Oikawa loved the feeling of the younger in his arms, he really did. "Nobody on this team is without purpose, even though the purpose may not be clear at first. I'm going to suggest to the coach to make you captain next year."  
"Really?"  
Yahaba slept in his arms that night, Tooru's back hurt the next morning, they were tied 2:2 in games with Nekoma, and Yahaba became captain of Aobajousai as he became a third year.  
Not to mention he had his very first kiss in here, that one time they had won against some irrelevant team, but barely. Oikawa had felt guilty for not making the point gap wider, and stayed behind to fulfill his quota of serving five hundred million balls or something a day for the second time. Iwaizumi, mad when everyone else had left, grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him back, into the locker room, slamming him against the lockers.   
He yelled, why was Tooru overworking again and is he insane and they won and why wasn't he happy, and how he's a total moron, and then the ace was hugging him and crying on his shoulders about how worried he was about his knee and how he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if Oikawa ended up in a wheelchair, and the next thing he knew he was pressed further into the lockers, moving his lips against the other's, head dizzy and fireworks exploding behind his closed eyelids.

Yes, they had indeed been trough so much together in this locker room. Oikawa felt his head fall against his lover's with a little sigh, perhaps classified as a sad one.  
"Iwa-chan?"  
"Yeah?"  
"I miss it."  
"I know. Me too."


	27. Day 27: Massage (Indie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for hella bad. I was writing and the massage was supposed to be longer but I had a lot of work so I just finished the story.

It was a busy day at the parlour, and Iwaizumi Hajime was tired.

He wiped his brow as yet another guest came in, and resisted the urge to mutter something like “dumbass, get out of here, we’re busy.” Back when his mother was alive, she’d taught him that the customer was always right, no matter what happened. Except Iwaizumi had never wanted to kill customers so much in the past. Massage after massage after hair style after hair style, after nail polish, after nail polish. Iwaizumi was a man loyal to his duty, for sure, but he hated when people hated his work.

And so he did everything thoroughly, all the massages and all the nail polish, and all the hair styles. Remembering his mother’s quote. He wouldn’t have been so patient, if that quote wasn’t there, keeping him sane.

But it wasn’t that it always kept him sane. Right then, the door was swung open with more force than Iwaizumi would’ve thought imaginable, and a man with glitter in his hair and a huge grin on his face sauntered in. Everyone squealed. Iwaizumi massaged his head; he did not need this right now, not at all. He did not need men with glitter in their hair and stretchy smiles on their face and hot damn were those eyes even real eyes? Brown, except the shade of brown was so lovely. 

“How may I help you?” said Iwaizumi, hurrying to the door as he finished painting a girl’s nails. The most popular stylist of the parlour, Kuroo, yelled at him to get his ass back over there, but he wasn’t listening, not at all.

“Hi, there!” said the man, waving, that grin still present on his face. Iwaizumi decided after a few seconds that it looked fake.

“Did you hear me, kind sir?” said Iwaizumi, gritting his teeth. “How may I help you?”

“I’d like everything!”

“…excuse me?” Iwaizumi was about two seconds after from punching this asshole in this face. He couldn’t even describe why he felt such a strong anger towards him. Perhaps they were best friends in another life. Or something of that sort.

“Everything you have to offer! I’m so tired, from volleyball practice,” he complained. “My hair doesn’t look good and my shoulders hurt and Iwa-channnnnnn!”

“Where did you get IWA-CHAN from?”

“Your parlour is called Iwaizumi Parlour, Iwa-chan, but Iwaizumi is too long. So you’re Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi stared for a few seconds, before spotting his ID which read, “Oikawa Tooru” and muttering, “Assikawa.”

Just then, the door swung open again, and Iwaizumi snapped back to reality. “KIND sir, I’m afraid we can’t offer everything at once. We’re particularly busy today-“

“You should be grateful,” Oikawa informed Iwaizumi. “You’ll get loads of money.”

“Oh my god,” muttered Iwaizumi, massaging his temple. “Okay. Fine. Come in. I won’t tell you to die in a hole. The customer is always right.”

“You sound like a robot, Iwa-chan!”

“Kuroo! Bokuto! Kageyama! Ushijima!” Iwaizumi yelled the names of his co-workers. “Please keep everyone occupied, I’m taking over this asshole!”

“Be polite to your customers,” said Oikawa, sticking his nose in the air.

“Just follow me, trash bag.”

-

I. Hairstyle

“It needs to look perfect, Iwa-chan! I’m scared, cause you look so unexperienced! Are you sure you know how to do this?”

“Shut the fuck up,” said Iwaizumi immediately. “Go find some of my co-workers and see if THEY would do your hair better. Have you even seen Kuroo? That hair is his natural bedhead.”

Oikawa completely ignored the Kuroo part, beamed at Iwaizumi and said, “I don’t want your co-workers, Iwa-chan, you are too cute!”

Iwaizumi dropped the hairbrush and had to bend down to pick it up, muttering things about “asshole customers who don’t deserve to have heard of our parlour.”

Oikawa leaned back on the chair and let Iwaizumi brush. Surprisingly, Iwaizumi didn’t like that he was silent. While he was a complete dumbass when he talked, he was interesting, more interesting than anyone who’d come here in the recent days.

Plus, that peaceful look on his face made him look dead.

Ten minutes later, Oikawa was complaining once again. Iwaizumi took back what he’d thought about Oikawa being interesting. He didn’t deserve that high praise. 

“You’re gonna remove all my hair, Iwa-chan! Just wash it already!”

“Stop calling me Iwa-chan.”

“Wash my hair, Hajime.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Iwaizumi’s head snapped up. “OIKAWA, YOU PIECE OF-OKAY. IF YOU WANT YOUR HAIR WASHED, SURE. I’LL WASH YOUR HAIR.”

-

Oikawa was slightly scared by that evil look on the other male’s face. He looked like he might be a murderer. Oh hey, yeah! An alien murderer, on a mission to destroy the world, aka Oikawa’s hair! 

Because that made perfect sense.

“Lean your head back,” ordered Iwaizumi, distracting Oikawa from his nonsensical thoughts.

“That sounded perverted, you know,” said Oikawa, leaning his head into the sink. “Ow!”

“Don’t complain.” Iwaizumi turned the sink on and brought a bottle of shampoo out. “Or I’ll take these trusty scissors and cut all your hair off.” He took a pair of scissors from his pocket and slashed them around.

Alien murderer, confirmed. Oikawa squeaked in fear, tempted to run away. “You look like a complete psychopath, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi glanced at the scissors, then down at Oikawa’s head. “Oh. Right. You have a point, Assikawa.”

“Of course I have a point!” squeaked Oikawa. “Iwa-chan! Wash my hair, I want to feel your fingers running through my hair-“

Iwaizumi swallowed. “Shut up, asshole.”

“Do you know any other insults?”

“Dumbass.” Iwaizumi rubbed the shampoo through his fingers, before taking hold of Oikawa’s hair and rubbing it.

Oikawa’s eyes were closed, and there was a smirk on his face, looking proud to have Iwaizumi’s finger in his hair. Iwaizumi was tempted to tell him how passionate some of the other customers got and that he wasn’t the only one. 

But for some reason, Iwaizumi kinda liked this idiot. 

“Tip your head back,” said Iwaizumi, and Oikawa obliged. Wash, wash, wash.

Finally, Oikawa spoke. “Iwa-chan, I need to decide how I wanna make my hair look, right?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you know how to style it so that it makes words?”

“Is that even physically possible?” Iwaizumi scowled, annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t satisfy his customer’s wants.

“Then just make it cute! I trust your judgement~” Oikawa held up a peace sign, which Iwaizumi immediately slapped away. “Just relax, dumbass.”

Oikawa giggled. “That sounded perverted.”

“How dirty is your mind, oh my god,” muttered Iwaizumi, squeezing out conditioner. “Almost done, Oikawa.”

“Blissss,” sighed Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s hand rubbed through his scalp once again. “You’re good at this, Iwa-chan…”

“Speaking of things that sound perverted…" said Iwaizumi, raising an eyebrow and washing off the conditioner as well. “How do you want your hair again?”

“I trust your judgement. But I demand glitter.”

“Waste your own fucking glitter.”

“Mean!” Oikawa got out of the chair, and moved to another chair, this one a spinny chair.

II. Nails

“You seriously want to paint your nails now?” said Iwaizumi wearily. “You know how much that’ll cost, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” said Oikawa. “Please paint my nailsssss, Iwa-channnnn!”

“Alright, don’t complain, dumbass,” said Iwaizumi, taking three different bottles of nail polish from the shelf. “What colour?”

“Gold! With silver! And, and blue and white hearts!”

Iwaizumi wondered why such a troublesome patient had to come in. The Iwaizumi business was usually a smooth business, with people taking what they wanted and leaving. Iwaizumi had never expected this, the customer who wanted more than one thing.

"Yeah, sure," grumbled Iwaizumi. "One million dollars."

"Iwa-chan, rude! I'm your favourite customer!"

"I've known you for less than an hour," said Iwaizumi in disbelief.

But he put back the black nail polish, took out the gold and the silver and the blue and said, "we don't have white, is beige okay?"

Partly because the customer is always right. Partly because something about Oikawa made Iwaizumi's stomach do backflips and feel funny. Maybe it was because he was just that annoying.

Spread your nails out is what Iwaizumi said to most customers, except saying it to Oikawa would guarantee a splutter about how perverted Iwaizumi was. Iwaizumi didn't have any idea how he knew what Oikawa would do next, honestly. They really had only known each other a little less than an hour.

"Put your nails out," said Iwaizumi wearily and Oikawa looked a little bit disappointed, probably because of the fact that he couldn't make something perverted of that. He did what Iwaizumi asked, though, and fake swooned when Iwaizumi got down on one knee.

"Where's my ring, Iwa-chan?" laughed Oikawa and Iwaizumi painted his nails, gold and silver and small, blue and white hearts. It was a good thing that Iwaizumi was experienced. And that he was fond of this asshole customer who called him Iwa-chan.

"Are you done?" said Oikawa, examining his nails. "Not great, Iwa-chan, I'll have to tutor you! But hey, Iwa-chan, we finally got to the massage! I've been waiting for this the whole time!" He winked at the irritated man kneeling before him. "What kinda massage? Ooh, do I take off my shirt?" Without waiting for a response, Oikawa flung his shirt off and into a corner of the room.

"Put your fucking shirt back on. I'm not giving you a massage. Money, Iwa-chan, business."

"Just leave the shirt off."

III. Massage

"You have to pick what kind of massage," Oikawa informed Iwaizumi. "I trust you."  
"Why, though?" muttered Iwaizumi, taking the gloves on his hands right off. "We just met."

"We're soulmates, duh, Iwa-chan! Now do your job!"

Soothing circles rubbed on Oikawa's body. His eyes closed, lying on his stomach with a mischievous look on his face, as though he wanted to get away and give up and whatever else.

"Iwa-chan, this is boring," came Oikawa's muffled voice from the pillows after two minutes. "I've been looking forward to it the whole time. Karate chop my body-DAMN BOY DO YOU TAKE KARATE?" Clutching his arm in despair, Oikawa stared at the man. "Iwa-chan!"

"You asked for it."

"You know what I meant!"

"Just shut up and pick a massage."

"Just massage my feet or something."

Soothing massage circles, on Oikawa's feet, his eyes open and face cheery and that dumbass.


	28. Day 28: A genuine smile ( Nick )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts AU woo

It was Oikawa Tooru's birthday, July 10th, when it happened. His cupcake read 11, a single candle. His parents were too poor for an actual cake, but the boy never needed any more than what they gave him. He had everything: loving parents, sweet older sister, a loyal puppy and a boy next door he played with every day. He was just finishing up his cupcake when it happened. An owl, large, brown and messy, hit his window. The oddest part was surely that it had a piece of paper stuck to its foot. Oikawa untied it and read the letter, widening his pretty brown eyes when the content hit his brain. Before telling his mother, father or sister, he stuck his head out the window and yelled;  
"IWA-CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNN-"

Ten days later, on Iwaizumi Hajime's eleventh birthday, he got a letter to match Tooru's: saying he's invited to some school of witchcraft and wizardry, all the way across the world, in Britain.

Laughter rang trough the station, and Oikawa was curiously observed a family witch consisted a tall, black haired man and a beautiful redhead woman, and three children which skipped after them.  
"Ano.. " Hajime, who still held his hand from home, was now tugging at the man's sleeve. "Do you know how to get to 9 3/4?" His English was fair, Oikawa noticed, and how he himself would never get the courage to ask someone.  
"Of course", the man's green eyes were warm behind his glasses, and he motioned to the wall. "You can come with us. I'm Harry."

***

The hall was huge, but not as huge as the man who brought them in with him: Tooru liked him, he talked funny and his large hands were gentle and quick to help when Hajime almost fell into the lake from the boat. The, what seemed to be the dining hall, was packed. Four long tables, laughter and reuniting, Oikawa was terrified. The line of eleven year olds started getting smaller as they put some kind of hat on their heads, and the word hat cried out Oikawa didn't understand; his English must've not been good enough. I was in front of O in the alphabet, and his best friend sat on the stool, looking unsure to whether or not he was dreaming. The hat yelled without much thought;  
"GRYFINDOOOOR!!"  
A table with red and yellow robes clapped, and he confusedly sat down next to them. Oikawa began dreaming; what did this all mean? They went to buy their magic supplies, he remembered the wand shop best. Nine inches, dragon heart string, cherry tree. Comfortably bendable. It laid in his suitcase upstairs or um - wherever they took his suitcase. Was there actual dragons here? Trolls? Chimeras? Were they really going to do magic? He was excited, yet terrified.  
"Oikaywa Tooru! "  
"It's Oikawa, ma'am. " he mumbled to the redheaded lady, which seemed to be the principal. He sat down, trying his best to calm and ease his heartbeat.   
"You're brave, aren't you?" The hat whispered into his head. He almost fell off the stool. "Competitive, too. There's a person somewhere you desperately need to be better than. Sly, intelligent. I've made my choice."  
"SLYTHERIN!!"  
People at another table clapped, and Oikawa threw a glance at Iwaizumi, but he was talking to that girl from the train station.

***

Their first year went by everything but smoothly - exploring, practicing late, studying themselves dead. Oikawa realized not everyone in his house had pure intentions, but he didn't bother, he made friends with the nice people, and people from other houses. His house seemed to be surprised his parents were human - muggles - and he got by so well. Day after day, he was getting a hand of the spells, potions, history, reading maps. He didn't forget about Hajime, of course - they always ran to meet each other in front of the classes, chatting and enthusiastically waving their hands.

***

The second year was easier: just two kids constantly getting late for class because they were talking to each other. They also saved up during the summer, and bought owls to send letters to their parents. By discovering Quidditch, they tried out for their teams - and of course, didn't make it. Iwaizumi had discovered Oikawa has roommates, something he did not, so Tooru sometimes snuck into the gryffindor tower, up the stairs and into his bed. Because his roommates were annoying, of course. That was it.

***

Another boy of interest joined Slytherin that year, also Japanese.   
Kageyama Tobio was cold, talented and antisocial, and Oikawa disliked how much he's improved since day one. His blood was pure, unlike his own, and he handled the wand like he was born with it. He soon became the most successful, among first years and maybe up, and Oikawa was beyond relieved when the first trip to Hogsmade took place. Iwaizumi and him bought sweets, had warm butterbeer with some friends, and then sat behind an old house, alone and devoting their time completely and happily to each other.

***

In the fourth year, Iwaizumi thought of a cool new thing: why wouldn't they send letters to each other?? Every night, Oikawa would fill a letter with his day, impressions, dreams and promises, and run up to the owlery, attaching it to one of the school owls' leg (if Hajime got a letter from /his/ owl that often, it'd raise suspicion) and whispered a quiet "To him." into its ear.   
The following morning the owl would crash at the Gryffindor table, bite Hajime's noise and he'd always, always glance at Tooru from across the room with fake anger in his eyes as he read the letter.  
The following morning, the owl would assault Tooru, bringing him a letter with warm words written on cold paper in handwriting that was awfully messy, but he's been reading it so long now that he could decrypt any word without problem.  
They also wrote to each other in Japanese kanji, so their secrets and whispers remained only theirs.

***

"ALYSON HAS THE BALL - WILL SHE MAKE IT? THE SLYTERINS ARE PUTTING UP ONE HELL OF A DEFENSE!! SHE SHOOTS - WILL THIS BE A POINT FOR GRYFFINDOR? NO, NO IT WON'T, SLYTHERIN'S WOOD HAS DEFENDED IT!!   
OH - WHAT DO WE DOWN THERE? TOBIO-CH - I MEAN, SLYTHERIN'S KAGEYAMA SEEMED TO CATCH SIGHT OF THE GOLDEN SNITCH!!"  
He got a smack at the head from the principal, in the middle of the game. Yes, Oikawa Tooru was let to comment on games - whoever gave him permission, must've had some mental issues to solve. Iwa-chan finally made it to the Gryffindor team as a beater - he developed a lot of arm muscle during the summer and now looked like a child with arms - and so they stepped into the waters of Quidditch. Of course Tobio-chan made it in his second year, the seeker of all places.   
Other houses came to see as well - Oikawa spot to Hufflepuffs, one that fifth year whose name he didn't quite recall, with a kind smile and silver hair who often helped him with potions, and that second year who seemed to have green hair and always walked hand in hand with that blonde Ravenclaw with glasses. The Slytherins had a good team - their chasers, Kuroo, Bokuto and Ushiwaka were fast, worked good as a team and made good shots. Oikawa wasn't especially fond of them, they were the popular clique: deep voices, tall and nicely built at only 15. Hajime was a beater, along with a small dynamite named Hinata - Oikawa liked /him/, the kid never seemed to run out of energy and he fought with Tobio a lot. The tests killed them that year too.

***

Over the summer, Oikawa outdid all of the chasers by appearance - he grew to a admirable 5'9, his messy curls began to appear endlessly lovely, his face got more serious and he developed some muscle - not a lot, but enough so that he liked how he looked without clothes. Hajime changed too - his unruly spikes of hair were everpresent, but he grew into his arms, still shorter than Oikawa but tall. He began giving Tooru a hit upside the head way more often, and his voice was deeper - Oikawa had a hard time to believing his best friend with scrapped knees who caught bugs in jars would become a lady killer. Until he got notified that he's now the captain of the Quidditch team, at least.   
That year, the sixth, they grew apart. Iwaizumi got a girlfriend, Grace, a sweet Ravenclaw with black hair and lovely brown eyes, who seemed to know everything, and Oikawa flirted with everyone left and right. He was surprised by how many people liked him now that he looked good - he started hanging out with Kuroo and Bokuto, faking smiles and winking at every girl which passed by.  
Iwaizumi was worried about him, and told him his concerns a couple of times, but Oikawa laughed it off - a laugh so fake Hajime's stomach flipped. 

***

In their final year, it was clear they had to think about their future. Except Oikawa had no idea what he wanted to do, he wanted to goof off and comment Quidditch games for a forever. Over the summer, he had a girlfriend as well, a muggle lady, Akira something. He didn't hang out with Hajime that much, though he wanted to. He began to feel the hole his best friend left in his life, how his bed was cold and his arms were empty when he cried. Oikawa wanted to try to mend their friendship, but Iwaizumi was always with Grace, and he seemed happy, so he stepped back.   
Until one night, on the top of the astronomy tower, where Oikawa often came to look out the window into the night when he should be in bed and think. The room was empty, it was used for astronomy exams, which now didn't take place. Its walls were made out of glass, and it had a perfect view of the campus. He was lying on his side, looking out one of the windows, when he heard steps. Teachers, a cat, Filtch - he didn't care at the moment. When the figure laid down across him, also on his side to face him, his heart stopped as he met face to face with his - ex? - best friend.   
"Oikawa", was all he said. Minutes passed, just looking at each other, until Hajime spoke again.   
"Do you still want me in your life to begin with?"  
Tooru's eyes automatically filled with water as a sob choked in his throat, but he nodded wildly whatsoever.   
Then, in a flash, arms were around him and lips were on his temple and a hand was in his hair, and he felt that sweet scent he used to love to let lull him into sleep all over.   
"I tried, but Grace was there and I -"  
"I broke up with Grace. It's hard to breathe when you're not here, let alone maintain a relationship. "  
"I missed you."  
"Next to all those admirers?" He could hear a smile in Iwaizumi's voice, but couldn't see it from his arms.  
"Passable, they never stay. It's not a real life."  
It wasn't - he knew, his new friends knew. Bokuto, who eternally pretended to be the number one playboy, flirting with girls and flashing his muscles, actually had his eyes on a guy - some short, pretty Ravenclaw with curly black hair and eyes that looked like he was always sleep deprived.  
"I'll stay."  
"I know."  
He did. He always knew. It was him, it always has been. Oikawa exhaled.  
"Will you want me in your future, too?"  
Iwaizumi let go of him, rolling onto his back to look at the stars trough the ceiling. Their fingers remained intertwined.  
"Of course. I promise."  
"Then, do you maybe want to open a small Quidditch equipment shop in the Diagon Alley? I've been thinking about what I wanted in the future, and nothing except for you crossed my mind."  
Oikawa was warm.  
"And a tiny apartment above it, with a puppy and only one double bed?"  
"Whatever you want", he mumbled and rolled over again, this time on top of him, to press their lips together. Oikawa had a hard time keeping up with the kiss, because he was smiling so wide - a real smile, unlike those he flashed around for the last few years. A genuine smile, the kind he kept for Hajime only.


	29. Day 29: Caught in the Rain (Indie)

Feet padded against the staircase, and Iwaizumi shut his eyes tighter still. Go away, he thought, but it’s distant. He could hardly feel his thoughts, much less express them.

“Sweetie?” Akiko poked her head into the room. “Please come out. I know you’re sad about Tooru’s death, but it’s not your fault. Let’s go on a car trip.”

“In the pouring rain?” mumbled Iwaizumi. “No.”

“C’mon!”

It’s hard to reject his wife. After all, she’d been good friends with Tooru as well.

(Iwaizumi and Oikawa were so much more than good friends. They had a bond. They had kisses and they had happiness, and saying the words “good friends” to express such a friendship was a malicious understatement.  
The happiness disappeared when Oikawa did.)

Akiko sighed and turned to the door, not bothering to turn and glance at her husband. His hands were on his chest and his eyes were open and he was beautiful but not as beautiful as Tooru had been, never as beautiful as Tooru had been. Hajime Iwaizumi was always a step behind his ass of a best friend, always in the shadows while Oikawa shone in the light, a perfect picture.

Perfection doesn’t exist, and pictures are illusions.

Death by disease. Asking the doctor to pull the plug.

“Let’s go,” said Iwaizumi abruptly, and Akiko nodded, not even surprised. 

“You don’t have to remember, Hajime,” she said. “You don’t have to pretend. I loved him too."

Flashback 

“Hey, Oikawa.”

“Hmm, Iwa-chan?” hummed Oikawa, draped around his shoulders with a small smile on his face. 

“I like you.”

The rain didn’t stop. The rain never stopped until the sun fought back.

(Oikawa was the sun and Oikawa never fought and Oikawa got hurt.)

Oikawa frowned. “I know that. You think I’m stupid?”

“What the-“ Iwaizumi gaped. “Excuse me, what?”

“I wasn’t even waiting for you to confess, it was so obvious,” drawled Oikawa. “Don’t worry, Iwa-c–Hajime. We’ve basically been dating since childhood.”

“What?”

“You gave me a ring, remember, and you told me that when we got older, we would kiss like old people. My, my, Iwa-chan. You were such a romantic.”

“Did I really say old people?” muttered Iwaizumi. “Jesus, I was a dumbass.”

“Don’t say dumbass, Iwa-chan,” said Oikawa. Their faces were dangerously close. “Expand your vocabulary.”

Iwaizumi became aware of the fact that, fucking hell, his childhood friend who had made him eat worms and stuff dirt into his ears was going to kiss him, and his mind flitted through all the romance novels he’d read before. “Did you bring an umbrella?” he asked, breaking the tension.

“Yep! Why?”

“Let’s get out of the car,” Iwaizumi said. 

Oikawa wiggled his eyebrows and sniggered a little. “You want a sexier setting, Hajime? That’s great! Forget about the umbrella, though, it won’t be as–ouch, Iwa-chan, I was just voicing your thoughts! You’re too violent! And it’s cold! I’m cold! Get off!” Oikawa howled until Iwaizumi got sick of it and opened the car doors. “Hey, Iwa-chan, d’you have experience or should I show you?”

Iwaizumi didn’t reply at first. “You know the answer to that, dumbass. Just…try not to swallow any rain with your big mouth and explain it.”

Oikawa laughed in his face, because he did know the answer, of course he did. While Oikawa went out with girls on a whim, Iwaizumi would always choose carefully. He wanted the loyal, the sweet, the brave, the funny, the beautiful.

(Oikawa wasn’t any of those things.)

“Jesus, this is so lame,” grumbled Iwaizumi. He’d wanted his first kiss with Oikawa to be spontaneous, exciting, dangerous. An asshole and his mean sidekick sharing wild kisses. Honestly, those fantasies embarrassed him. He never came out as the type to want adventure, after all, but everyone wants that, hidden within them.

(Oikawa wanted too much adventure.)

Apparently Iwaizumi had voiced his thoughts. “It doesn’t have to be boring, Iwa-chan,” chirped Oikawa. “How about this – we’ll make it interesting, okayyyyy? We can ditch the car–“

“Are you fucking–“

“And wander off, and have the adventure you want!” Oikawa held up a peace sign. Iwaizumi slapped it away, making Oikawa whine in surprise. “Iwa-chan! You said it yourself! And I bet you have dirty fantasies–“

“Die, trashy Oikawa.”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa took Iwaizumi’s wrist. “Let’s just go, meany.”

Iwaizumi didn’t complain. Of course not. No matter how much he complained and grumbled and protested and acted like he hated Oikawa, he’d never been able to resist the setter and that’s why Oikawa was so annoying, the way he got everything he wanted.

“First stop,” said Oikawa. “The woods, Iwa-chan!”

“The woods?” echoed Iwaizumi. “Do we even have woods around here?”

“Don’t ruin it, Iwa-chan. Of course we have woods. Up hereeeeeee!” He pointed at his head.

“You don’t have a brain. You don’t have an imagination. How do you expect us to imagine the woods?”

“Don’t be a spoilsport.” Oikawa dropped his voice. “Rules. Don’t ruin it, don’t be a spoilsport and make the rain seem romantic! Haven’t you read any romance novel–“

“No. And I don’t plan to,” said Iwaizumi. “Fucking dumbass.”

“So the way I see it,” said Oikawa. “We can have a lot of kisses! I just need to teach you how, Iwa-chan…” He stroked his chin thoughtfully, making Iwaizumi imagine what he’d look like with a beard.

“I don’t need lessons, dumbass,” growled Iwaizumi.

“See, Iwa-chan, if this was a romantic movie that would be the part where you grabbed my shirt and we had a first kiss. But you’re so unromantic!”

“Oh my god, you idiot,” said Iwaizumi, briefly considering grabbing Oikawa’s shirt and…killing him. “You’re so sappy.”

“That’s why you love me, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi’s breath hitched in his throat. “I don’t–“ Alone. They were alone, and Oikawa was so pretty and it was raining down on them and fuck, fuck, fuck, why didn’t Iwaizumi read the informational article on how to react in uncomfortable situations? He didn’t know and he really didn’t know how to kiss and–

The silence was broken. “Not now,” said Oikawa. “Not yet.” He winked at Iwaizumi, and back to anger Iwaizumi’s emotions went.

“Assi–“

“Hey, Iwa-chan, lie down, okay?”

“What? It’s not gonna–“ Iwaizumi was interrupted by a finger to his lips.

“I know,” whispered Oikawa. “It’s cold and it’s raining and the weather isn’t good for lying down. Forget about that.”

Iwaizumi swallowed, and let himself fall to the slippery pavement, wincing when he felt the water dissolving into his shirt. “We’ll get sick, Assikawa.”

“Turn towards me, kay, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa turned to the side he would face Iwaizumi on. “Okay. Now imagine. You’re in a forest,” his voice lowered. “We’re in a forest. I’m a demon. You have a volleyball under your arm. We’re best friends. Suddenly, it starts to rain. But just as it comes, we find each other’s way. And when we find each other, it stops.”

Iwaizumi stopped breathing, staring at Oikawa.

“Hajime, the rain stops,” Oikawa said. “Because the sun and the rain makes a rainbow and one of us is the sun and one of us is the rain.”

“So cheesy,” muttered Iwaizumi, and then they were kissing and a tangle of bodies and hands and the sweet smell of the forest.

-

Nothing lasts forever.

-

Iwaizumi became distant. He met people. Iwaizumi Hajime was pretty good with people, not usually girls, but it seemed like he and this girl had clicked.

Her name was Akiko. She was one of Oikawa’s friends.

Oikawa was more stressed than ever. He needed to become better.

-

Humans are not elastic bands.

-

Long nights spent at the hospital. Whimpers and cries. Marriage. Oikawa didn’t attend the wedding.

-

“I have cancer, Iwa-chan. I haven’t told you. Sorry.”

-

Death by cancer. Asking the doctor to pull the plug.

-

“I loved you, Assikawa.”

“Corpses don’t hear, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Fuck, I really did love you, Assikawa.”

“He’s passed away, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Ignore them, Assikawa."

-

He suffered.

-

End of flashback 

“Are you having fun?”

Trapped in the car, caught in the rain, husband and wife and mingled memories and bittersweet tears.

No more forests. No more rain, no more sun and no more rainbows. No more memories. No more Oikawa.

Iwaizumi allowed himself a ghost of a smile. “Not yet, Akiko. Sorry.”

“I expected that,” said Akiko, lying backwards in the passenger seat. “I don’t understand because I don’t have someone like that, really. Oikawa was important."

“He IS important,” corrected Iwaizumi. “Not gone.”

“Close your eyes,” said Akiko. “Imagine whatever happened that day. Are you having fun?”

Iwaizumi smiled again, a little more genuine. “Kind of."


	30. Day 30: Favourite canon moment (Nick)

The game was in full range: Karasuno wasn't as bad as they thought. They had won a practice match, sure, but they never played Oikawa for a full game before. They got themselves a libero, and a proper ace since last time. Oikawa tried to crush their morale by hitting their libero with his best killer serve, but Nishinoya Yuu was no small fish. Well, in every way but physical. Oikawa almost snickered in the middle of the game; compared to his libero, Watari, the orange crow looked like an elementary schooler.   
Tobio-chan was as annoyingly good as usual, he even managed to surprise the grand king a couple of times. His serves were good, too, it terrified him.   
"Over here!" Oikawa's fingers automatically responded to Kindaichi's voice, sending him the ball just how he liked it: high, middle speed, fairly far from the net. Being the captain, and in no means a genius, he had to know exactly which kind of toss each of his spikers liked, to boost their powers and morale.   
They had won the first set already, but the second was slipping trough their fingers. He remembered what his ace had told them back in the locker room:

"Karasuno isn't the same petty team that got lucky in defeating us in the practice match." Iwaizumi's voice was serious, maybe worried. "We can't let our guard down."  
Oikawa continued;  
"They have a libero now, so we can't rely on spikes entirely. Makki, I expect you not to slack off on blocking like you have when he were up against lower teams."  
Next words were, again, said by the ace:  
"We also don't know the strength of their ace. He's a new threat, but I think that, if someone", dark eyes glanced at Hanamaki, "doesn't slack off during blockers time, I don't think we'll have a problem. Their ace looks kind of like a.."   
While Iwaizumi was searching for the word, Oikawa already knew what his partner was thinking:  
"A wuss", the captain giggled.   
"Yes. Still, play your best, give your all."  
"And I'm counting on you!"  
After Oikawa's famous last words, they entered the court. None of the players were surprised about how Iwaizumi gave half of the prediction and encouragement talk captains were usually in charge off, or how Oikawa finished his thought without much thinking. They were simply always like that, filling each other's gaps and finishing each other's sentences. Perks of knowing someone longer than you know yourself, the team always assumed. 

Tsukishima, Karasuno's number 11, just blocked Kunimi's spike in a very specific way, a way Oikawa had before seen only on one person, and he wasn't aware Karasuno spent time with the Tokyo cats. If Tobio-chan had picked up any of Kenma's moves, Oikawa knew he indeed had something to worry about. The turquoise warriors held great respect for the kitten setter - he was a genius, he was cute, he wasn't cocky. Oikawa offered to teach him how to serve, since it couldn't hurt (he hated to admit, but Aobajousai beating Shiratorizawa was about as possible as Nekoma beating Fukurodani: highly unlikely). The pudding boy had politely refused, returning to his game. Oikawa wanted to pet him.  
The ball found itself on his fingers once more as the set neared its end, this one he sent off to Matsukawa. He was fairly good of a spiker, close to the net, not very high, but very fast. He knew, he knew them all. Which dragged him off to another memory, of last night, when he was walking home after practice:

"Say, how do you know how to toss everyone differently?" Iwaizumi walked by his side, slowly sipping his milkshake.  
"It's a setter thing, Iwa-chan!!" Oikawa said in a dramatic tone, like it was a federal secret. "You just do, your fingers are like", at this point, the setter was waving his hands in front of himself, explaining. "connected to their voices. You hear them calling out for a toss and you", long fingers rose above his head, forming in a way that seemed like he was expecting a ball to fall on them any second now, "just know."  
Iwaizumi didn't even call him a moron this time. 

Hinata was too good. No, Hinata was too fast, Tobio-chan was too good. They were like a killer duo, a force which refused to be stopped. Watari was having a hard time receiving those quicks by surprise, and everything looked like Karasuno was going to take the second set. His eyes caught Iwaizumi's, and no words were needed, they never were. Oikawa knew that what he was doing was wrong, because he could already hear Kageyama's head voices predicting this, but at the same time nothing felt more right. Karasuno served the ball.

"Because, when pushed into a corner.."

Oikawa almost closed his eyes, expecting the ball. 

"Do you think we can win tomorrow?" Iwaizumi had asked from their couch last night. "Against Karasuno?"  
Oikawa joined him on the sofa, taking his own Chinese food carton in his hands and using his chopsticks to bring the food into his mouth.  
"I think we can. They're still rough on the edges, and I think we're a beautifully connected team."

"...Oikawa will always..."

"Say, Iwa-chan", he continued when they were both in their beds. They had one bedroom only, but it had two single beds, one of which was more often empty than not, but tonight they decided to sleep apart. "I'll make you a bet. If we win, you have no more right to complain about me overworking my knee. If we lose, I'll go home with you every night and never stay behind late again."  
Iwaizumi looked at him across the room like he was crazy.  
"Absolutely not. No matter what you do, or what kind of a bet you make, I will always hit you when you're not doing what's best for you."  
"Always? Even when we're old and married?"  
"Of cour-wait, married?? You mean to other people??"  
Oikawa just giggled into his pillow.

"...always..."

"Your eggs are on fire, Assikawa!!"  
"What!! Your bacon still smells like pig!!"  
"Bacon IS a pig, moron!!"  
"Quick, quick, the waffles will overbake!! "  
They rushed around the kitchen in aprons, still in pajamas under them and yelling at each other all morning. It was how their relationship worked, they sometimes enthusiastically pointed out each other's flaws, and other times fell asleep on each other during an alien movie marathon in the middle of the day. Whatever it was, neighbours often complained they were too loud. This morning, however, they were trying to make breakfast for the team. Everyone had a big game today, the crows even beat Datekou, and the third years just wanted to do something sweet for them.  
It wasn't turning out so well, as seen from all the yelling and Iwaizumi's occasional curses, followed by Oikawa's screeching and pointing at the swear jar.

"...toss to Iwaizumi."

The ball seemed as light as a feather as it hit his waiting fingers which threw it in an arch so familiar it made his heart warm. This toss, his favourite toss, the toss he tossed in elementary school, middle school and high school, the toss he wanted to keep tossing in college. By now, Oikawa knew they read him, they were going to stop the point, but he didn't care. He would never betray Iwaizumi or himself by tossing to someone else in a moment like this.

In the end, they won, and it was the very last time Aobajousai stood triumphant over the crows with the setup they had now.


End file.
